The Hardest Part
by afonz
Summary: How does a man cope with life after losing his best friend? Will returning home be the cure he is looking for, or will it lead him to learn that his old life in a war torn country was easier than his new civilian life.
1. Prologue

**AN: **Hello! I'm new at this, so be gentle.

I'd like to thank the lovely **TeamBella23 **and **Dandelion Mind** who were kind enough to pre-read this and tell me I don't suck too much. Also, a big thanks to **Klooqy **and **Jennrosee** from **Project Team Beta. **I can't thank you all enough!

Oh, and I obviously don't own Twilight. I do own a New York Times crossword puzzle calendar. Enjoy!

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><p><em>The sun shone brightly, glaring off the sand, blinding their eyes and making it nearly impossible to see. The wind quickly picked up the sand and whipped it around them as they drove back to base.<em>

_It was your typical day in Iraq: drive to the refugee camp, observe and report back. _

_In an instant everything changed. Their typical day suddenly turned into the worst day of their lives. _

_They didn't anticipate the roadside bomb that went off. Insight had told them hours before departing that they would be in the clear. _

_They were wrong. _

_They say your life is supposed to flash before your eyes in the moments before your death, but all he could see was a bright, blinding light. He swore his eardrums had burst from the shattering noise the IED made as it exploded next to their Humvee. _

_The jolt of energy instantly caused his body to become airborne, as if it was weightless. He flew around the cabin as the tank flipped through the air. _

_Dust clouds erupted from the barren land as the twenty-two hundred pound vehicle impacted the desert floor, the force ejecting his body from the vehicle. The cabin was a mess of arms and legs, making it nearly impossible to tell who was hurt, alive or dead. The dust particles hung in the air; it was difficult to see any farther than five feet in front of him. The scent of burning skin and torched Humvee scorched his nostrils. Certain he would vomit, he tried to concentrate on other matters. He knew he was injured: possible a broken arm or leg, but he was responsible for the young men in his company. He needed to make sure they were safe._

_He quickly surveyed the area for the enemy. There were none to be found, at least none that he could see through the sand and the dirt that still lingered in the air. Straining his head to the right, he locked eyes with his best friend whose body lay shaking violently. In that moment, his life and the life of his other brothers did not matter. It was his best friend who took precedence._

_Cautiously, he crawled on his stomach toward his friend. He realized his arm was definitely broken when he was unable to drag himself fluidly across the sand. "Hold on, I'm coming," he said through gritted teeth as pain surged through his arm. _

_After what seemed like hours, he found himself hovering over his best friend. "No! You can't die! Don't you dare fucking die!" he screamed as he watched his friend's blood languidly spill out of his body, only to immediately seep into the arid dessert land._

_He tried to speak, his mouth made the motions, but the sounds failed to come out._

_"She needs you! You can't let her raise that baby alone! You can't do this to her." His voice cracked as he clutched to his friend, shaking his body as he started to choke on his own blood. _

_It was a torturous sound, one that even your worst enemy should not have to endure. How does one comfort their best friend when they know there's nothing they can do for them? _

_If he could stop his pain, he would. _

_He wished the IED had exploded closer to the Humvee; maybe then they both would be dead and he wouldn't have to lie here watching his best friend die. _

_He slowly rose to his knees and applied as much pressure as he could to the gaping hole in his friend's chest. He knew it was useless; he'd already lost too much blood. _

"_Please, please, please! Don't…" he begged, tears seeping from his eyes. He stared back at his best friend, watching as his once ice blue eyes slowly started to cloud. He prayed he would hold on a little longer, at least until help could get there. Someone had to have known what had happened to him and his company. _

_Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. The time dragged torturously. _

_After fifteen minutes he knew it was pointless to think help was ever coming. As long as the war continued to wage all around them, no one was coming, not anytime soon. The longer they waited to rescue them, the more likely it was to turn into a recovery mission. Their bodies would be shipped home in coffins draped in the American flag. _

_His friend gasped for breath. "Please," he croaked, raising his blood-covered hand as it shook uncontrollably. "Can't…" he attempted to speak. _

_"Shh, don't talk. You're gonna be fine. They're coming." He whispered, trying to be reassuring as he continued to apply pressure to his chest. He discreetly checked his friend's pulse. It was faltering. He instinctively knew it wouldn't be much longer. _

_Countless shots could be heard firing rapidly in the distance. It sounded like they were coming from a machine gun, but he couldn't be certain. All he knew was that if either one of them were going to survive he needed to get them closer to the Humvee where what remained of the company was taking cover. _

_His friend moaned in pain as he tried to pull them both closer to the vehicle. The closer they got, the more death and destruction they witnessed. Many of his brothers lay dead or wounded beside the damaged tank._

_An enemy bullet whizzed by his left ear, the sound causing him to stop crawling and duck his head on the compacted sand. "Fuck," he swore, clutching harder onto his friend. _

_Another shot was fired, missing him by mere inches. He raised his head. "Shoot me you motherfucker! If you're going to take him, just take both of us!" he screamed hysterically, kneeling as he squinted out into the distance, looking for the shooter. _

_Grabbing his gun, he aimed to fire at someone, anyone. He was out of options; it was too late. Two shots were fired quickly, the first entering and exiting through his right thigh, and the second painfully lodged somewhere in his rib cage on the same side. _

_Screaming in pain, he fell next to his best friend, panting and praying that they would both be taken now. _

_Looking helplessly on, he watched as his friend slowly lifted his bloodied hand to his neck; pulling on the familiar thin, silver chain that hung there._

_"No! Don't you give up!" he yelled as he frantically grabbed the radio and tried to call for help, his body shaking from the shock. _

_He watched as his best friend ignored him and gave a strong tug on the chain, breaking it free to reveal his set of dog tags._

_"I don't fucking want those!" he spat as his friend grabbed his hand and gave them to him. _

_"Th-ank you," his best friend managed to get out before becoming completely motionless._

_He shook his head. "Please, don't," he cried, tears making deep tracks down his bloodied, sandy face._

_Slumping further into the sand, the final shots rang out, the noise echoing off of the buildings surrounding him._

_As the blood continued to pour out of his own body, his world quickly went black._

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!<strong>


	2. Sigh No More

**AN: **Welcome back! Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and rec'd this little story. I was really blown away with all the attention it received. If you put me or the story on alert, thanks for that as well!

I'd like to thank **TeamBella23** and **Dandelion Mind** who were my pre-readers. ILY hard. Also, a huge thank you to **Pain Jane** and **shelikesthesound** from **PTB** who beta'd this and kept my comma usage under control. I've learned so much from using **PTB.**

I don't own Twilight or Mumford & Sons (I wouldn't mind getting my hands on Marcus Mumford though). I do own a new organizing system. The OCD freak inside me is jumping for joy.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Sigh No More<strong>

Isabella had been watching him stand across the street for the past ten minutes. She went about the monotonous task of filling the sugar shakers while glancing back at him periodically.

What stuck out to her the most was his short and unruly, dark brown hair that appeared to be impossible to tame, despite its length. His eyes were downcast as he scuffed his worn, black Converse on the sidewalk. The bitter chill in the air caused him to raise the collar on his wool jacket as high as it would go. Despite the cold, he lit a cigarette. The smoke billowed around him before rising up into the somber, cloud-filled sky. His opposite hand remained in his pocket, tugging his jeans further down his hips.

She wondered how long he was going to stand out there in the cold. She noticed he kept glancing at the café and then back down at the ground. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to join him? But why wait out in the freezing, brisk winter wind when he could wait for whomever he was meeting inside where it was warm and toasty?

Isabella had been working at _The Sugar and Spice Café_ for a few weeks while on winter break from teaching her first grade class at Hillside Elementary in Evanston, Illinois. Going to grad school part time required her to have a second job. As much as she enjoyed teaching first grade, there was no way she could pay all of her bills on a teacher's salary alone. She didn't mind working at the café; sure, filling sugar shakers was not the best part of the job. She did get to work with her best friend Melissa. Mel had sat next to her on the first day of their course on The American Novel where they bonded over their love of Faulkner and cupcakes.

She and Mel were alike in many ways. Both girls moved to Evanston from the West Coast. Mel hailed from California, Isabella from Washington. Mel was you typical California girl: tall, tan, and strikingly beautiful. Yet, she didn't have the 'Valley Girl' attitude. Mel was the first friend she made upon arriving in Illinois, to which she was thankful.

The loud, annoying buzzer sounded near the back of the café, causing Isabella to flinch and spill sugar all over the counter top.

"Hey, Bee, could you grab that? It's Jake with a delivery," Melissa asked from the front counter. "Don't worry about that. I'll clean it up." She swept her wavy, strawberry blonde hair off her neck and piled it into a messy bun on the top of her head.

"Thanks." Isabella smiled, wiping her sugar-coated hands on her black apron.

"Hey, maybe he'll ask you out again?" Melissa snickered, giving Isabella a nudge as she walked past her.

"Oh, don't you even start! I'm still trying to forget last week." Isabella blushed profusely as the buzzer rang a second time.

"I can't believe you told him no. He looked like someone killed his puppy." Melissa laughed, grabbing a cup to fill a customer's order.

Isabella rolled her eyes and shook her head as she walked into the break room, hearing the buzzer continue to ring. "I'm coming!" she called, unlocking the back door.

"Hi, Jake, how are you?" she asked, opening the door and standing aside as he brought in their produce for the bakery portion of the café.

"Isabella, good morning. I'm doing good, you?" Jake gave her his signature toothy grin, his eyes lighting up when she smiled back at him.

"Fine, thanks," she replied quickly, glancing over the products he carried in his arms. "What do we have here?" she asked, grabbing the package of fresh raspberries off the top of the crate.

"Yeah, they look good, right? We got those fresh in from this family farm in Michigan yesterday." Jake replied as he placed the rest of the products down on a vacant workspace to his left.

"God, these would be great in a scone with a little orange zest." Isabella mused happily, thinking of all the other items she could make with the fresh berries.

"I bet those would be delicious. That is, if you're making them." Jake winked at her, making her feel a little awkward.

Jake was a great guy, but not one Isabella would ever consider dating. Sure, he was attractive, with his short black hair, broad shoulders and bright smile. However, he was almost _too_ nice and pretty for her tastes. His constant winking and shameless flirting also made him look desperate. She could, however, see him dating Melissa. Mel liked pretty boys with big muscles. Unfortunately, whenever Isabella mentioned, in a not so casual way, that Mel was single, Jake never seemed interested.

So, Isabella did what she did best: flirted back. She knew she was leading him on, but she never had the heart to really tell him that she was nowhere near interested. "Well, you'll have to come back and try one, Jake." She smiled back at him while putting the dairy products into the refrigerator.

Grabbing the flour, yeast, and sugar for Isabella, Jake followed her into the pantry. "Hey, so, I was wondering if you're busy next Friday –" Jake began, interrupted by Melissa shouting for Isabella.

"Bee, I need you!" She sounded frantic.

Isabella left the rest of the dry goods out on the table and turned to walk to the front of the café. "Jake, I'm sorry. I don't mean to cut you off but…" she trailed off, tightening the strings of her apron.

"No, it's fine. I'll talk to you later." Jake shrugged as he walked towards the back door. "I'll have to come back and have one of those scones."

"Of course," Isabella said with a small smile.

Melissa gave her a look of relief as she stepped out of the back room. The line behind the register was quickly growing with restless customers. She didn't expect the café to get busy so fast. She'd started at seven a.m. and hadn't realized it was near nine already.

"Sir?" Melissa asked the next customer in line. Isabella glanced over at him and noticed it was the mystery man who had stood outside the café for the past twenty minutes. He'd finally made his way inside. "Sir, can I help you?" Melissa questioned again when he stared at her looking nervous, not responding.

"Hey, she asked what you wanted," a middle aged, caffeine deprived woman scolded from behind when he failed to respond. "Listen, buddy, I'm in a bit of a hurry, so if you aren't going to make up your mind sometime this century, would you mind moving out of the way?" She pushed forward, causing the man to stumble and grab the counter for support.

"Ma'am, please. It's only coffee," Isabella scolded, stepping up to the register to the left of Melissa. "Sir, if you would like to come over to my register, I'd be more than happy to help you."

"Well, it's about damn time. I have places to be," the woman snapped back at Isabella, causing her to raise her eyebrow in question and shake her head. The impatient woman glared at the man as he slowly stepped over to her register. The woman huffed, stepping up to Melissa's register to give her order.

_She'll be lucky if Mel doesn't give her decaf,_ Isabella thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

Dressed in dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt that could be seen underneath his unbuttoned jacket, he glanced up at Isabella. He quickly averted his gaze once his eyes met hers.

She couldn't help but stare at him. His short hair shone under the lights of the café, the bits of snow making the tips glisten. The stubble on his sharp, strong jaw appeared to be more than a few days old. His clenched fist kept his grip on the counter steady, though it gave off an air of defensiveness. As Isabella continued to observe him, he kept his eyes downcast, occasionally licking his lips as he clenched his jaw.

"Good morning," Isabella said softly, peering down and trying to make eye contact with him again.

He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and finally glanced up at her. His light, sea green eyes stunned her. Aside from their shocking beauty, it was the dark circles underneath them that stood out to her the most.

"Morning," he murmured quietly, breaking her gaze once again. She watched as he picked anxiously at the chipped counter top with his thumbnail, causing flecks of vinyl to fall to the ground.

A young child could be heard wailing when her mother refused to give her another bite of the chocolate donut they were sharing.

Isabella noticed the man flinch at the shrieking sound coming from the child's mouth, his eyes closed as if silently pleading for the noise to stop. Taking another deep breath, his hands began to shake, and his knuckles turned white, as he gripped the counter top harder.

Isabella continued to regard him cautiously as his shoulders hunched further. Unsure what to do, she ran her fingers through her hair, hoping he would respond. After a long moment and another deep breath, he finally risked a look back at her.

"Hi. What can I get for you?" Isabella wondered if her encouraging tone, and the fact that he was finally looking at her, would entice him to talk to her.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down along his stubble-covered throat. "Uh…I um…I'm not quite sure," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isabella breathed a sigh of relief. As bad as she felt for the man, she acknowledged that talking to him was like pulling teeth. "Well, we still have our holiday drinks available, if you're a fan of those? The peppermint latte is very popular and so is the –"

"It's not for me," he interrupted her, looking down again.

"Okay. Is it for a friend?" Isabella questioned, thinking it would have been easier had his friend came in and ordered their _own_ beverage. "Do you know if they like coffee or tea?"

"It's for my…uh, she's my –" He looked up to the popcorn ceiling, searching for the right word.

Isabella continued to regard him as she glanced down at his left hand that was still grasping the edge of the counter top for dear life. She immediately noticed the faint tan line of a band around his ring finger. _Figures he would have a wife, _she thought dryly as she also took note of the various cuts and scrapes covering his knuckles, just beginning to heal.

He cleared his throat, bringing Isabella out of her thoughts. "She's pregnant. I-I don't know if she can…" He shook his head, swearing to himself under his breath.

Isabella sighed sadly and nodded at him. _Married with a pregnant wife, _she steamed while reaching for a to-go cup. "How about some tea?"

"Eh, sure?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Something fruity. I-I-I really don't know."

"Passion fruit mango?" Isabella suggested, grabbing a tea bag and the jar of loose-leaf tea. "It's my favorite, and it's really good. She'll like it," she said with a smile as he nodded back, agreeing with her. "And your name?" she asked, reaching for her pen.

"Edward," he murmured quietly, looking down at his well-worn shoes.

"I'm sorry. Edwin is it?"

"No," he stated, shaking his head and licking his bottom lip, staring straight into her eyes. "It's Edward." He made sure to speak louder so she would hear him correctly this time.

"Right. Edward. I'll have this out for you in a second. That'll be two dollars and fifty cents," she said with a smile.

Edward reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. After paying for the tea, he cautiously made his way to the far end of the counter to wait.

Isabella glanced over at him once more before tending to the next customer in her line. Quickly taking the order for an incredibly fluffy coffee drink, she went about the task of preparing both orders.

"You alright, Bee?" Melissa enquired as she reached across Isabella's body for the chocolate syrup.

"Yeah, Mel, I'm fine," she answered quickly, wanting to get Edward his tea as fast as possible. It was getting progressively louder in the café, and Edward looked as though he was ready to bolt out the door, tea be damned.

"Triple caf, non-fat vanilla latte no foam!" Isabella shouted, handing the woman her coffee. "And your Passion fruit mango tea, Edward," Isabella called, their fingers touching as the steaming hot cup passed from her hand to his.

"Thank you," he mumbled, not daring to look at her again.

Isabella didn't have time to reply before he turned swiftly toward the door. Stepping back to the register to take the next customer's order, she sighed, praying the day would not drag on.

As she stood there, she risked one more glance at Edward as he slowly made his way to the exit. She noted the cane he used to assist him, having not noticed it earlier. Completely ignoring the next customer's complicated order, she continued to watch him as he gradually made his way down the sidewalk, head down, never glancing up.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. <strong>


	3. Running Up That Hill

**AN: **Welcome back! Sorry for the delay. Thank you so much for continuing to read and review.

A huge thanks to **Barkleybear19** and **AnthroBug** from **PTB **for their beta'ing skills.

Hugs and smooches to **TeamBella23, Dandelion Mind,** and **MeilleurCafe **for being amazing. I can't thank you lovely ladies enough. XX

I don't own Twilight. Bummer.

**Suggested listening: **'Wolves' by Phosphorescent (thanks to **Dandelion Mind **for the suggestion) and 'Running Up That Hill' by Placebo

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Running Up That Hill<strong>

Despite her wishes, the day continued to drag and progressively got worse. After throwing another temper tantrum, the temperamental child from earlier projectile vomited all over the tabletop. Isabella's eyes went wide, and she began to feel queasy the instant it happened.

Isabella glanced over at Melissa, silently asking if she wanted to help clean the mess up. Melissa tipped her head back and laughed, knocking over a stack of to-go cups in the process. "Fabulous, another mess to clean up." Isabella huffed, marching to the supply closet for the cleaning supplies.

After cleaning up the mess, she politely showed the mother and her sick child to the door. As it closed behind them, the bells attached to the handle jingled loudly. Watching them cross the street to their car, she said a silent prayer, thanking God that she was able to keep her lunch down.

"Is it three yet?" Isabella groaned, sweeping her shoulder-length, mahogany locks out of her eyes as she stepped back behind the counter alongside Melissa.

Melissa shook her head. "No, babe. It's not." She sighed, and then looked at the door as a pack of teenage girls came giggling into the café. "God, help us," she pleaded, glancing over at Isabella as the girls stepped up to the counter.

"Please, no. I can't do this right now," Isabella moaned. She was not in the mood to deal with their over-glossed lips and clothes that were nowhere near appropriate for the January weather. _Who wears short skirts in January?_ She judged them.

"Don't worry. I got this," Melissa said as she cracked her knuckles and rolled her head from side to side. Isabella giggled. Her friend appeared as if she was getting ready to fight her worst enemy, not deal with a group of pesky teenagers.

"Thank God." Isabella shook her head and headed into the break room. After making a cup of Earl Grey tea, she set about the task of laying out the butter and other ingredients needed to bake pastries for the front display case. Someone on the next shift would have to make them for the following morning. She also made a mental list of all the ingredients she would need to whip up the raspberry scones during her shift the following day.

She could hear the group of girls jabbering to themselves while deciding what to order. They always wanted the same thing. 'Um, hi. I would like a large chocolate mocha frap with um, extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup,'they would say in a whiney, holier-than-thou voice, and then proceed to giggle for five minutes because they somehow found it funny. Isabella could picture Melissa either rolling her eyes or giving them her patented death stare. She didn't sympathize with her; she did clean up puke today. Melissa could handle a group of irritating girls without her.

After it had quieted down significantly, Isabella peeked her head out from behind the doorframe. "Is it safe yet?" She glanced around looking for the girls.

"You're in the clear, you big coward. Thanks for bailing on me," Melissa joked.

"Any time." Isabella laughed, stepping out from behind the door to take the next customer's order.

An hour later, she glanced up at the large, ornate clock that was hanging above the door. _One more hour,_ she thought to herself. _Then_ _I can go home, veg out on the couch and watch the terrible TV shows I can't seem to get enough of._

The last hour of work was a busy one. Melissa and Isabella filled orders left and right. Thankfully, the afternoon coffee drinkers were not as caffeine-deprived as those in the morning, making filling customers' orders a much more bearable task. All the same, they both breathed a giant sigh of relief when Ben and Jessica came in the front door of the café, signaling that their shift had finally ended.

"Hey, you guys been busy today?" Ben asked, tying his apron around his waist and straightening out his polo shirt.

Isabella and Melissa laughed. "You don't want to know," Melissa said, rolling her eyes. She removed her apron and walked into the back room with Isabella.

"Alright, don't tell us," Jessica sneered. She had never gotten along well with the two of them. She found their inside jokes to be odd, and she was slightly jealous of the quick friendship they'd formed; though she would never admit it.

Isabella took off her stained, crusty apron and debated whether to hang it up in her locker or bring it home and wash it.

"Wash it," Melissa said knowingly, giving her a disgusted face. "There's probably vomit all over it," she said as she laughed and pulled on her jacket.

"Shut up! Maybe if you would've helped me, I wouldn't have this problem." Isabella smirked at her.

"Ah, yes. I could have done that, but I'm not that nice." Melissa laughed. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Bundling up in their jackets and hats to face the bitter cold, they hooked arms and strolled out of the café, waving goodbye to Jessica and Ben.

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><p>Stairs.<p>

Five flights of stairs.

_My fucking nemesis._

Edward scowled at them from the front entrance of his apartment complex. It was as if they loomed high above his head, like an impassible mountain cliff. He usually opted to take the elevator, but he had already walked the eight blocks from his apartment to the café and back. _Why not torture myself some more?_

Stairs never used to be a problem for him, until Iraq.

Everything now was "until Iraq."

Taking a deep breath, he grasped the banister firmly with his left hand, the wood smooth under his rough palms. He tucked his black cane tightly under his right arm so he could carry her tea. _If I fall, I'll kill her, _he thought dramatically. He wouldn't really kill her. She was all he had left.

One step at a time, he started to make his way up the stairs.

_One step at a time. Who am I, my physical therapist?_

Dr. Roberts was constantly saying that, which made him resent her. She pushed and pushed and pushed, and he would scowl, yell, and curse at her. Despite his attitude, she never gave up on him. He knew that without her persistent nature he probably wouldn't be walking right now; he would still be stuck in his chair, or at least on those damn crutches.

A few agonizingly painful minutes later, he made it to the top of the first flight of stairs. He glanced down behind him triumphantly. Dr. Roberts would be proud. He may have only taken them one step at a time, like a toddler would, but at this point even the smallest victories mattered.

_Only four more flights to go, _he tried to cheer himself on.

He rubbed his hand against his right thigh, trying to ease the pain that had started when he made his way out of the café. Panting and out of breath from only ten steps, he could feel the sweat slowly start to roll down the center of his back from overexertion.

Turning his head, he glanced up at the next flight of stairs. He swore the damn stairs were taunting him; yelling, '_you can't do it.'_ He was losing his mind. He heard the ding of the elevator to his left before he saw the doors open like the gates of Heaven. "Screw it," he muttered as he hobbled as fast as he could over to the elevator, trying to beat the doors.

Lunging inside, he braced himself against the back wall as the doors of the elevator closed behind him. He was surprised he hadn't fallen or dropped the tea all over himself. He raked his fingers through his hair, even though it wasn't quite long enough to tug on – he did it out of habit. He knew he needed to calm down before entering the apartment. She'd freak out if she knew he had taken the first flight of stairs. She was constantly worrying about him.

Stepping up to his door, he took another deep breath, one last attempt to slow his heart rate down. Placing his hand on the bronze colored knob, he twisted it to the right and stepped inside.

His apartment was a modest size, and much smaller than his previous place. However, he didn't like to think about that. It was decorated simplistically. A large, black leather couch took up most of the living room and faced his flat screen – his most prized possession. A small dining table was located next to the cramped, but functional kitchen. He didn't cook much these days, so the lack of space didn't bother him. The walls were a light, mundane beige and contained very few decorations. Just an occasional photo could be found here and there. He wasn't big on knick-knacks.

Edward placed his keys on the small, wooden table next to the door and tossed his jacket over the couch. Glancing into the kitchen, he saw her standing at the counter fixing something to eat.

"There you are. I was wondering if you were all right. I was just about to call," she spoke, peering over her shoulder at him while licking the extra peanut butter off of her butter knife. Her other hand rested on her stomach, rubbing it in small circles. She was wearing an oversized, black USMC sweatshirt and a pair of leopard print leggings.

Edward sighed, choosing not to reply. He slowly walked toward her, using his cane to support most of his weight. A sharp pain surged through his thigh; it felt as if it was ripping apart from the inside out. He tried not to let the pain show on his face because it would only worry her.

Handing her the now lukewarm tea, he retracted his hand quickly. "Thanks," she said, giving him a small, sympathetic smile. After brushing her fingers through her shoulder-length, dark-brown hair, she popped off the lid of the cup and blew on the tea.

"So, how was it?" she questioned him, picking up her peanut butter and banana sandwich.

He gazed at her, his eyes revealing more than his words ever could. "You're lucky I love you, Al," he replied quietly as he shook his head. He hobbled out of the kitchen and down the small hallway that led to his bedroom before she had the chance to reply.

Sighing, she frowned and twirled her petite, diamond ring around her left ring finger. She called out after him, "We should go together tomorrow. It'll get better, Edward," and walked from the kitchen to the living room. Sitting down on the couch, she propped her feet up on the matching leather ottoman to relieve her swollen ankles. Grabbing the remote, she switched the channel to _Say Yes to the Dress, _one of her favorite shows.

She heard him cautiously make his way back to the living room a few minutes later. She noticed he had changed into a pair of sweatpants that hung off of his narrow hips and a dark navy hoodie that was beginning to rip at the collar. Lowering his cane to the ground, he slowly slouched down next to her, grunting in pain. She thought about getting him something for the pain, but it would only cause an argument. She couldn't handle that right now.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed the red and blue afghan his mother had made, and laid it across their laps. Placing his arm on the back of the couch behind her, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her rounded cheek. "Yeah, I guess we can go tomorrow." He shrugged, showing his disinterest.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and let out a small sigh. _Getting out will help him. It'll help me. This is good for us._ She encouragingly told herself as they tucked in to watch the rest of the episode.

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><p>Lugging her purse, puke-stained apron, two bags of groceries and her take-out up the four flights of stairs to her door, Isabella cursed her apartment complex for not having an elevator. "Honestly, it shouldn't be this difficult." She scoffed, pushing her shoulder against the door to shove it open.<p>

Dropping everything except the burrito she'd purchased for dinner, she placed her keys into the small basket on the antique side table near the door. Hanging her coat on a small peg on the wall next to the table, she jumped over her bags and tossed her dinner onto the breakfast bar.

To say that she loved her apartment would be an understatement. Sure, it wasn't the biggest or the most artfully decorated, but it was hers; a fact that she was proud of. Most of the furniture she'd picked out at the local second-hand store. It was all she could afford when she moved here from Seattle. She had spent two weekends cleaning up and painting all of her new purchases. Despite being 'used,' they gave a new life to her apartment.

A fresh start.

That's all she wanted when moving here.

Grabbing a Diet Coke out of the refrigerator, she settled in at the breakfast bar and dug into her burrito. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the annoying, flashing red light of her house phone, signaling she had a message. "Who would be calling me on this line?" she pondered. _There were only two people who called this number: my father and grandmother._

Timidly pushing the button on the phone – fearing bad news – she anxiously waited for the message to play.

"_Bella, it's Mike –" _

She froze upon hearing his voice. He somehow still managed to invoke fear in her, despite the two thousand plus miles that separated them. She quickly pushed delete with her now shaking hands. "How…?" she questioned out loud.

Immediately, another message started to play. _"Listen, don't delete this. I need –" _

"Oh, God, no…" Her breathing started to accelerate. She automatically pushed delete for the second time.

"_Bells, baby, please. Call me back. I'm sor –" _

Delete.

Not wanting to hear if there was another message, she grabbed the machine and yanked the cord from the wall. She didn't need to hear his poor excuse for an apology. It meant nothing to her. She had just started her new life. She wasn't about to let him back in and destroy all that she had accomplished.

Wiping the traitorous tears that had escaped from her eyes, she peered down at the machine and picked it up as she stood from her chair. "I ended this. You're not starting it back up again," she said to no one but herself.

Taking a deep breath, she hurled the phone and monstrous machine at the wall across the room. As it fell to the hardwood floor in pieces, she let out a shaky breath and stared at them as they scattered about the room.

She hoped destroying the machine would help, but she knew at this point nothing would. His voice would be stuck in her head, taunting her until she could figure out how to get rid of it.

A deep sob wrecked her body, causing her to hunch over.

Opening up the bottom left cabinet in the kitchen, she pulled out her bottle of red wine and poured herself a generous glass.

Bringing the bottle with her, she settled on the couch and flipped on her small television as large tears languidly rolled down her cheeks. She vowed to not let this bother her. Taking a large gulp of her wine, she stared at the images on the screen and proceeded to numb her mind for the remainder of the night.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


	4. Losing Touch

**AN: **Hello, again! Thanks for coming back for more.

Thank you so much to **MeilleurCafe** for her wonderful beta skills. **Dandelion Mind **and **busybrie** were my pre-readers. These three lovely ladies made this chapter look so pretty. ILY all.

I don't own Twilight. Sucks, I know.

**Suggested Listening: **'Losing Touch' by The Killers and 'Dark Dark Dark' by Daydreaming (thanks to **Dandelion Mind **for the suggestion)

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Losing Touch <strong>

'_Good morning, you're listening to News Talk 720 WGN. Here's Mary Van De Velde with this morning's traffic.'_

Isabella's clock radio blared, startling her awake from another fitful night's sleep. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she peered over at the red digital numbers. _Six thirty a.m.? It can't be_.

Plopping her head back down onto the pillow, she wondered why she still used the clock. It was old, only had one sound level, and the reception was more static than sound. But, it was her father's, and he gave it to her as a gift when she turned ten. Even after all these years, and despite the fact that she had an iPod that performed the same function on her stereo system, she couldn't bear to part with it.

'_Thanks, Johnny. You'll want to get an early start this morning if you're planning on taking the Edens. It's backed up between Dempster and Old Orch – '_

"Shut up, Mary." Isabella groaned as she rolled over and slammed her palm down on the radio, hitting the snooze button.

The sun was just beginning to creep between her vertical blinds, creating various linear shadows on the pale yellow wall above her bed. She cursed the sun and threw her floral print down comforter and mound of various covers over her head. Burrowing as far as she could between her pillows, she allowed herself ten more minutes of tossing and turning before facing the day.

'_The Bulls barely beat the Knicks last night, ninety-eight to ninety-six. That makes six wins in a row. In college basketball news, Northwestern lost to Ohio State fifty-two to forty-seven. Illinois sneaked past Indiana with a score of –' _

Her hand slowly sneaked out from under the warmth of her covers, and turned off the radio. "Fuck," she mumbled, running her hand over her face. Her mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. She was in desperate need of a giant glass of orange juice and two Tylenol. _If only I had a butler,_ she mused.

For the life of her, she couldn't remember what time she stumbled into her bedroom last night. After finishing off the bottle of wine and contemplating whether to call her father and interrogate him on how Mike got ahold of her number, she watched re-runs of _The Real Housewives of New Jersey_ until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

She recalled waking up on the couch around one thirty in the morning. The TV was still on, now running infomercials for useless products that everyone seems to want, but has no true use for. _Who would ever wear Pajama Jeans?_ she thought every time she saw the ad. Somehow, the TV remote had become wedged between her foot and the armrest. She had switched off the TV and rolled off the couch, unsteady on her feet.

Bracing herself against the walls, she stumbled back to her room where she some how managed to pull on a pair of tattered, black sweatpants. She started to pull her shirt over her head, but gave up when she tripped over the piles of laundry that were scattered about the floor. She decided that sleeping in the shirt she was wearing, despite how filthy it was, was better than risking twisting her ankle on the mess.

With the sunlight now blinding her, she knew it was time to get up. Ever so cautiously, she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, wishing desperately that the room would stop spinning. "Why did I tell Jessica last week that I would work a double for her?" She shook her head, attempting to clear her mind. "Oh, right. The money."

Untangling her legs from the death trap the sheets had formed around them, she swung them over the edge of the bed. The shag area rug that covered the hard wood floors gave some comfort to her cold feet. Isabella let out a loud, unladylike moan as she stretched and scratched her stomach. Walking out of her room and towards the bathroom, she swept her hair off of her neck and quickly threw it up into a messy bun.

The tacky, fluorescent light buzzed to life when she flipped on the switch, causing her to squint. "Damn it," she cursed at it under her breath. With her eyes still half closed, she pulled open the medicine cabinet door above the sink and grabbed the bottle of Tylenol. She shook out two of the small blue and red pills, and popped them into her mouth. Turning on the faucet, she cupped her hand and took a few drinks of cool water.

The refreshingly cold water slowly started to clear her mind, but did nothing to instantly cure her headache like she'd hoped. Walking over to the shower, she turned the hot water knob to the left as far as it would go. _Perhaps a few minutes under scalding water will rid me of this hangover from hell._ She mentally chastised herself for drinking so much last night. Testing the water with her foot, she quickly retracted it and added cold water to the mix.

Within minutes, the air in her tiny bathroom became thick with moisture, making it difficult to take a deep breath. Isabella slowly peeled off her clothes, enjoying the warmth that quickly spread throughout the room. After removing her last article of clothing, she stood stark naked in front of the mirror above the sink. Her reflection, slowly becoming distorted by the foggy mist that crawled over the surface, shocked her. Through the haze she could still make out the deep purple shadows under her eyes. Sweeping her finger over the harsh coloring, she sighed. Her eyes were blood-shot and puffy from a night of crying, her nose, raw and red from constant Kleenex use. Tears started to prick to her eyes when she thought of the previous night. She knew that it was pathetic to be crying over him, yet somehow, she couldn't help it.

She shook her head, attempting to rid her eyes of the tears. Pulling back the cupcake pattern shower curtain, the welcoming water pelted the far wall of the tub and slowly pooled at the bottom near the drain. As she stepped inside, the heat slowly enveloped her like a comforting fleece blanket, protecting her from the outside world.

She went through the usual motions: washed her face, hair, and body, while her mind was elsewhere. She shouldn't have been thinking about him, but he was like a hangnail that continuously snags on your clothing. Mike, like a hangnail, won't go away unless you do something about it. She thought she had fixed that problem – she'd left. Yet, here he was again, haunting her.

An uncontrollable sob suddenly overtook her, making her haunch over and slowly sink to the tub floor. She hated that he made her feel so weak. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sat underneath the showerhead until the water ran cold and the skin on her hands and feet started to wrinkle. Isabella allowed herself a couple of minutes to wallow in self-pity before listlessly picking herself up off the floor. She wasn't sure how long she stood there; however, she knew she would be late for her shift. _Ask me if I care._ She scowled to herself. After quickly drying off, she left the bathroom and headed back into her room in search for something to wear.

Twenty minutes later, with a reusable to-go cup filled with orange juice in her hand, she was out the door. She opted for a simple pair of black, skinny jeans, a cream colored knit sweater that hung off her right shoulder, and a pair of black flats with a delicate bow on the toes. Her hair, still slightly damp, was braided to the side. She kept her makeup simple: mascara and lip-gloss. She made an attempt to cover up the shadows under her eyes to the best of her ability, but she wasn't a makeup artist. There was only so much she could do.

When she arrived at the café thirty minutes late for her seven thirty shift, she decided to take the delivery entrance in order to avoid the customers she wasn't quite ready to face yet. She hoped the break room would be empty so she could enjoy two seconds of peace and quiet before stepping out onto the café floor. _Maybe I should have called in sick._ She let out a sigh. Opening up the door with her key, she briskly walked in and frowned when she found Melissa sitting on the worn, brown couch, thumbing through a magazine.

"I'm late, I know." Isabella huffed, keeping her eyes downcast as she hung up her jacket and quickly pulled on her apron, tying the strings behind her back.

"Uh, hi?" Melissa was caught off guard by Isabella's tone. "I didn't say anything about it did I?" Melissa snapped back at her when she didn't respond. She stopped reading and glanced up at her friend for the first time. "You look like hell."

Isabella shook her head. "You're such a bitch. Why am I even friends with you?" Her voice grew quiet as she turned back to the confines of her locker.

Sensing her mood, Melissa quickly stood and walked toward Isabella. "Hey, you alright?" She placed her hand on Isabella's shoulder and attempted to peer into her eyes.

Isabella sniffled. "Yeah, I'm fine." She shook her head nonchalantly.

"You're a terrible liar, Bee."

Placing her purse in her locker and twisting the lock shut, she turned to face Melissa. "I know." She kept her gaze on the floor fearing she would break down if she looked her friend in the eyes.

Melissa gently placed her finger under Isabella's chin and forced her to look up at her. "God, did you sleep at all?" She ran her thumbs over the dark circles under Isabella's eyes.

"Hardly." Her voice cracked.

"Bee, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just had a rough night, that's all." Isabella tried to give her a small, reassuring smile.

"You want to talk about it?" Melissa asked as Isabella started to turn away from her and toward the café.

She turned back to her and sighed, shaking her head. "No, I just…I can't. Not right now."

Melissa was used to Isabella coming to her for everything. She nodded, not knowing how to respond.

"I'm sorry, Mel." Isabella looked at her sadly. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the café and up to the register.

Melissa watched as Isabella put on her best fake smile and filled a customer's order, never missing a beat.

* * *

><p>Alice awoke in Edward's king size bed as she often did, now. After everything she had been through these past few months, she felt more at home here, in his bed, than she did in her own. Her bed felt empty now.<p>

Glancing over at the clock, she saw it was eight forty-five, much later than she had planned on sleeping in. Sighing, she sat up and rubbed her stomach, smiling when the baby kicked back against her hand.

Climbing out of the massive bed, she walked over to Edward's small closet, pulled out one of his sweatshirts and threw it over her head. She swept her hair up into a ponytail and headed into the kitchen in desperate need for a cup of tea and something to eat.

After setting the kettle to boil, she noticed that the TV was still on, meaning either Edward stayed up all night, which was typical, or he never turned it off once he did finally crash.

Alice walked into the living room and switched the channel to the local morning talk show. She listened to the host drone on about the latest news while she stared at Edward, whose body was half on, half off the couch. He was snoring lightly, dead to the world around him. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

The sharp, piercing whistle of the kettle several minutes later sent her quickly scurrying back into the kitchen to shut off the flame so as to not wake him. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately. He told her he was sleeping just fine, but the dead look in his eyes and the deep, dark circles that were always present told her otherwise.

A few weeks ago, she'd suggested that he go to a therapist, but he'd vehemently rejected her idea. She had started seeing Dr. Weber after _it_ happened a short two and a half months ago, and she was slowly starting to feel like herself again. Sure, she had her moments when she would cry all day, but they were becoming less frequent the more sessions she had with Angela. Edward's refusal for professional help broke her heart. She hated seeing him like this. She did the best she could to help him herself; however, there was only so much she could do.

They coped by spending much of their time together. Alice found herself staying at Edward's place more often than her own. She was comfortable here, whereas at her place, just a block away, she felt like an intruder. They quickly found a routine that worked for them. Angela told her routines were good, they would help her get back into a more 'normal' lifestyle. But every time she heard that, she thought, _What is normal?_

At the end of a typical workday at Northwestern University, where she worked part-time in the Art History department, she headed straight to Edward's, bypassing her place completely. She usually found him on the couch, either watching a movie or having a marathon of a TV series. Lately they have been watching re-runs of _Friends_ and _Dexter;_ it was an odd combination, but they enjoyed it.

She usually cooked dinner for the two of them. Edward used to love cooking for her and their friends, but his interest dwindled when he returned from Iraq. He didn't seem to like doing much of anything now, which is why she was shockingly surprised when he said he would run down to the café for her the previous afternoon.

After steeping the tea bag for a minute or two, she tossed it into the trash and popped a slice of whole wheat bread into the toaster. From the kitchen she noticed two orange pill bottles perched upon the wooden end table closest to where Edward's head lay.

Curious as to what he had taken last night after he refused the Vicodin for his pain, she picked up both bottles.

"Vicodin, Celexa," she read aloud. "God, Edward, I hope you didn't take them together." She looked down at him. "Well, you're still breathing. That's a good sign." Bending over, she placed her hand on his naked shoulder and gave him a gentle nudge. "Edward?"

Nothing.

She shook him a little more forcefully this time. "Edward, wake up."

He moaned.

_Another sign of life, _she thanked God. "Edward, it's Alice. I need you to wake up." She rubbed her hand over his left bicep, her fingers ghosting over the tattoos that covered his skin.

He groaned and slowly opened his eyes. She saw they were blood shot red.

"Edward, did you –" she began.

"What, Alice?" he snapped, his tone sinister. Edward closed his eyes.

"Don't yell at me," she retorted, trying to keep calm. "Did you take these together?" She held both of the pill bottles in front of his face. "You know you're not supposed to."

He cracked his eyes back open to see what she was talking about. "Yes, Mom, I did," he grumbled, shaking his head at her overly protective nature.

"What? You can't! You could die…you know this!" she shouted at him.

He sat up and gazed at her as she stood over him. "Relax, okay?" His voice was gruff from sleep. "I took them a few hours apart."

Alice let out a sigh of relief and shook her head. "I'm sorry for panicking, but I worry."

"I know. But I'm not stupid."

"Edward, I didn't say that –" She stopped herself, not wanting to start an argument with him. "Did you have a panic attack last night?" He nodded, avoiding her eyes. "You could have come and gotten me," she said quietly, sitting down next to him.

"It was three a.m.," he shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you. I'm fine, Alice." He went to pull at his hair and then cursed when he realized it was still too short to tug. "Besides, you need your sleep."

She didn't believe him for an instant when he said he was 'fine.' His attacks were more frequent now and they had started to get progressively worse. They both knew why, but neither one of them would ever state it out loud.

She watched as Edward's face winced in pain when he stood up off of the couch. Forgoing his cane, he staggered into the kitchen. Alice quickly followed behind him knowing that he wasn't quite steady on his feet yet.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal, only to realize there wasn't any milk in the refrigerator. "Damn it," he sighed, looking longingly at his bowl.

"I'll go shopping tonight," Alice said, handing him her toast as she popped another slice of bread in the toaster for herself.

Edward nodded as he hobbled back to the couch. "Are you leaving?" he asked when he saw Alice wrap her toast in a napkin.

"Yeah," she replied as she slipped on her black heels near the door. "I have to shower. My OB/GYN appointment is at eleven thirty."

"I don't know why you just don't bring your stuff here. I mean, you're here most mornings, so why run back to your place when you don't have to?" Edward mumbled as he tore off a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth.

Alice shrugged. She knew it was a reasonable question, but she couldn't live with him, even though they needed each other. They were co-dependent on each other enough as it was. Moving in with him wouldn't be healthy. Plus, she had the baby to think about.

"Is someone going with you to the appointment?" Edward asked as he wrapped the afghan around his bare shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. Angela said she'd go with," she replied, picking at her burgundy nail polish.

"Isn't she your shrink?" he asked, confused.

"Therapist," she corrected him, looking into his eyes. "She's also my friend. She asked, so I said yes." She knew he'd object when he heard Angela was coming with her. Edward usually went to all of her medical appointments. She sighed. _If only he would just meet with her once, he'd realize how much she's already helped me and what a great friend she is._

"I would've gone, you know." He shrugged, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I know," she said, nodding. "It's nothing major, just a quick checkup. My blood sugar levels were high the last time I was there."

"Well, good thing you smeared jelly all over that toast." He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'll be fine." Alice zipped her coat and unlocked the deadbolt. "I'll call you when I'm done. Do you still want to try to go to that café again?" she asked hopefully. She wished he'd say yes. She didn't want him to stay cooped up in his apartment all day.

Edward looked down at his hands and cracked his knuckles. "Uh, I guess." His voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question. "I could meet you there."

"That sounds good," she replied and walked over to the back of the couch. Kissing his cheek lightly, she walked back to the door and opened it. "I'll see you soon." She gave him a smile, then walked out and closed the door behind her.

* * *

><p>After a few hours of putting on a happy face for the customers, Isabella retreated into the kitchen and prepared the ingredients for her raspberry scones.<p>

She had always enjoyed baking; it helped relax her if she was having a stressful day. Isabella was a self-taught baker, and if you asked her, she was pretty good at it.

Turning on the Kitchen Aid mixer, she watched as it quickly blended her wet ingredients with ease. She giggled at the odd noise the eggs and butter made as they slapped along the sides of the metal bowl. As she added in the vanilla extract and sugar, she could hear the customers chatting in the café over the low hum of the machine.

She thought back to her conversation with Melissa this morning. She had contemplated telling her all about Mike many times before, but his phone call last night really frightened her. From past experiences, she knew of what he was capable. She wasn't sure what to think now. She knew she would eventually have to tell Melissa, but not now. _Later,_ she told herself, _I'll tell her later._

Stopping the mixer, she added her dry ingredients. As she turned the machine back on, a giant cloud of flour puffed into the air, coating her and the workspace in a light dusting of the white powder. "Shit," she cursed, and tried to swipe off as much flour as possible.

She heard Melissa come into the back as she was shaping the finished dough on the wooden counter top. Flecks of raspberries swirled in dark-red dots through the mix. "You missed some on your nose," Melissa said, pointing to her own nose so Isabella could see where to wipe.

"Thanks," Isabella said with a small smile.

Melissa walked further into the room. "Listen, I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't –"

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that." Isabella interrupted her.

"You feeling better now?" Melissa walked over toward her and helped cut the dough into triangles. "These look great, by the way."

"Thanks. I'm feeling a little better," Isabella replied, placing the cut dough onto two baking sheets and popped them into the oven.

"So, you'll never guess who's out there." Melissa nodded her head toward the front of the café.

"I can only imagine." Isabella washed her hands and re-braided her hair. She wasn't in the mood for guessing games today.

"That cute guy from yesterday. Edwin, or whatever it was." Melissa smiled at her.

Isabella turned to face Melissa. "Edward?" she asked in a surprised tone. She walked to the door and scanned the seating area for him. She spotted him at the small table near the giant picture window that looked out on the bustling street.

"Yeah, Edward." Melissa shrugged and watched as Isabella stared at him intently. "Well, he's been here for about half an hour, just sitting there," she continued as they both walked out of the kitchen to stand behind the cash registers.

"He hasn't ordered anything?" Isabella asked, still observing him. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and the same worn Converse as the previous day. She could see a navy blue t-shirt peeking out from underneath his gray zip-up hoodie, which he left open. On his head he wore a black beanie. His stubble also remained from the day before, only thicker, and his wool jacket lay casually off of the back of his chair. _God, he's cute,_ Isabella thought. _Too bad he's married._

"No. Although, now that you're out here, maybe he will." Melissa elbowed her in the side and smiled.

"Doubtful," she replied. His nose was buried in a book. She wanted to know what had him so deeply interested, but she wasn't about to go up to him and ask. So, she distracted herself by taking a customer's order.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the café door open and a small, pregnant woman wearing a killer pair of heels glided in gracefully. The woman's face light up when she spotted Edward. He glanced up at her and gave her a small smile. He said something to her after she kissed his cheek, but Isabella couldn't make out what it was due to the noise in the café.

"I bet that's his wife." Isabella sighed and looked at Melissa.

"How do you know he's married? He only said a handful of words to you yesterday," Melissa questioned her, looking closely at Edward as he interacted with the woman.

"I noticed he had a tan line around his ring finger, and he mentioned getting a tea for a woman who was pregnant. You put two and two together…" Isabella tried to sound as logical as possible.

Melissa shrugged. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." She smiled back at Isabella as they continued watching them from across the room.

As Isabella filled an order at the blender, Melissa noticed the pregnant woman slowly rise to her feet, her hand clasped on her stomach, almost as a way of assisting herself. "Bee," she whispered, as the woman walked closer to the counter. "She's coming. Look for a ring while I take her order."

Isabella turned around and handed the gentleman his caramel frappuccino as the woman stepped up to Melissa's register.

"Hello, what can I get for you?" Melissa asked her cheerfully.

Isabella quickly glanced down at the woman's left hand that was perched upon the counter. She let out a small, sad sigh when she spotted the rays of sunlight glinting off of the delicate diamond ring that she wore on her ring finger.

"Hi there. I had a tea from here yesterday that was just delicious. I don't know what it was called," the woman said, glancing between Melissa and Isabella.

"Do you remember what it tasted like, perhaps?" Melissa questioned her.

"Mango…maybe?" Her shoulders rose as she guessed. "Actually," she turned and pointed out Edward who still had his nose buried in his book, avoiding attention, "He bought it for me."

"Bee, do you remember what it was?" Melissa asked, turning toward Isabella with a wide grin on her face.

"Passion fruit mango," Isabella replied confidently with a smile.

"Yes! That's it. I'll have a large. I'd also like a large hot chocolate and two blueberry muffins." She smiled happily.

"Sure, coming right up. That'll be six dollars and twenty-five cents."

Isabella went to work on the woman's beverages as Melissa took her money before retrieving the blueberry muffins. "Told you," Isabella muttered underneath her breath, just in earshot of Melissa, who shrugged in response.

"Isabella will take the beverages to your table if you'd like?" Melissa asked politely.

"That'd be sweet of you, thanks," the woman replied happily, and walked back to her table with the muffins.

"Well, thanks," Isabella said sarcastically, causing Melissa to snicker.

Swirling the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate, which she presumed was for Edward, Isabella took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. The last thing she needed was to be a frantic mess around him and spill a hot beverage all over his pregnant wife.

"Would you relax? He's just a guy." Melissa handed her a tray to carry their beverages on.

"I know, but there was just something about him yesterday…I don't know what it was," her voice trailed off as she set the drinks on the tray.

"Well, he's married, so it doesn't even matter right?" Melissa raised an eyebrow at her.

"Right." Isabella nodded.

Taking another deep breath and blowing it out her nose, Isabella made her way over to the couple's table, walking as confidently as she possibly could.

"Go get 'em, tiger!" Melissa cheered her on, only to receive a death stare back from Isabella.

As she got closer to them, she observed that they seemed to be in a deep conversation, their heads together, whispering quietly. Not wanting to interrupt them – fearing a lover's spat approaching – she held back and slowed her pace. When she couldn't hold off any longer without looking like an idiot, she stepped up to their table, catching the tail end of their conversation.

"…Edward, Friday is – " the woman spoke, before he interrupted her.

"I know what Friday is, Al. How could I forget it?" Edward said, scowling. "I'll call Em back, see what he wants to do anything." Edward glanced up at Alice as he finished speaking. He saw Isabella standing patiently alongside their table. Not sure what to do, he cleared his throat, and quickly gazed at her.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt," Isabella said quietly.

"Oh no, don't worry about it. It's fine," Alice reassured her with a smile.

Isabella gave a nervous laugh. "Um, here's your tea." She set the mug down in front of Alice, her hand shaking slightly. Walking closer to where Edward was sitting, she set down the other mug. "And your hot chocolate, Edward," she said softly, and gave him a small smile.

Hearing his name, Edward stared at Isabella; shocked she had remembered it. He also noticed the surprised look on Alice's face upon hearing Isabella speak his name as well. He gave her a small nod in reply. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Sure, just let me know if you two need anything else," Isabella said quickly and walked away before either of them had the chance to say anything in response.

She risked one glance back at the couple and saw the woman place her hand lovingly on top of Edward's and smile at him.

_Just my luck,_ she thought as she escaped back into the kitchen, no longer wishing to see the couple's open displays of affection.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>


	5. Trapped

**AN: **Hello, and thank you for coming back for more!

As ever, I owe a HUGE thank you and a million hugs and kisses to **busybrie** who is my lovely new beta, and **Dandelion Mind**, my amazing pre-reader. I don't know what I'd do without you ladies! XX

I don't own Twilight. Shame.

If you're wondering how I picture Edward in this story, his hair looks very similar to Rob's new cut, except a bit longer :)

Suggested listening: 'Trapped' by Bruce Springsteen

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Trapped<strong>

Edward stared down at Alice's hand as it lay atop his. Her creamy, smooth skin contrasted harshly against the dry, cracked cuts that covered his knuckles. He watched as her hand stroked his softly. He usually didn't like to be touched this way, but he wasn't about to spoil her mood by pulling his hand away. _She's happy today,_ he thought, and gave her a small smile.

"She's cute," Alice remarked, her eyes lighting up as she squeezed Edward's hand and took a sip of her tea.

"Huh?" Edward questioned as he looked up at her. He blew on his hot chocolate before taking a sip, the whipped cream coating his upper lip. Alice giggled at him as he wiped it away.

"Don't play coy, Edward." Alice bit into her blueberry muffin and moaned. "This is so good," she said with her mouth half-full.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Al." Edward picked apart the top of his muffin, avoiding her gaze. "But these are really good," he agreed as he popped a few more pieces in his mouth. "So, how's the baby?"

"Fine, healthy. Everything came back normal, but don't change the subject," Alice huffed at him as she stole a piece of muffin off his plate. "You know who I'm talking about. The girl who brought the drinks, the brunette."

Edward shrugged his shoulders. _She is pretty hot,_ he mused. _But I can't even contemplate being with anyone right now. Alice, of all people, should know this._ He shook his head and looked up toward the registers. She wasn't there, but her blonde coworker was. She caught him looking and smirked knowingly.

"She knew your name," Alice teased him playfully as she finished the rest of his muffin.

"Well, I did talk to her yesterday," Edward replied, regarding Alice.

"You should go talk to her. You know, it's been a while since you and –"

"Don't," Edward cut her off. "She asked my name yesterday when I ordered your drink. That's it all right? Just drop it," he snapped at her.

"Sorry," she muttered quietly, her eyes downcast. She spun her mug around in her hands in an attempt to ease the awkward tension that suddenly filled the air.

On the far side of the room, a woman gasped loudly as her teacup fell to the ground and shattered, instantly causing Edward to flinch. He immediately closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Alice timidly reached across the table and touched his left hand, which was clenched tightly in a fist.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?" she asked, gently rubbing his hand until he relaxed it.

Edward nodded quickly in response, his eyes still closed. Cautiously he opened his eyes, making sure to keep his gaze down on the worn, linoleum floor. He quickly threw on his jacket, picked up his cane, and walked out the door before Alice had even risen from her seat.

As she slipped her arms through her jacket, she spotted Isabella emerge from the backroom, her eyes searching for something Alice couldn't pinpoint. She watched as a worried look spread across Isabella's face as she intently regarded Edward once she'd spotted him outside. He lit up a cigarette by the front door and took a long drag, the smoke billowing slowly up into the air. Once bundled up, Alice headed out to join him, giving a smile to Isabella as she left.

"Did you drive here?" Edward asked as he stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into the receptacle. He exhaled the remaining smoke upward so as to not blow it in Alice's face.

"Yeah, I'm parked over there." She nodded her head to the left in the direction of her car.

The ride back to Edward's apartment, while short, was a quiet one. The only sound that could be heard, aside from the purr of the engine, was the dashboard rattling as Edward's knee anxiously bounced against it. He was practically out of the car before Alice could pull her silver Ford Focus into the guest parking lot. "Tonight won't be good," she muttered aloud to herself as she stepped out of the driver's seat, locking the door behind her.

Down the block, a car backfired loudly; the sound reverberated violently off of the surrounding buildings. The booming noise was loud enough to set off various car alarms, creating more of a raucous. "Fuck!" Edward yelled, panicking as he ducked low to the ground, covering his head with his hands.

Alice hustled over to him as soon as he hit the ground. He was crouched down alongside the car, almost as if he was using it for cover. One of his hands grasped his left leg, while the other kept his balance steady on the ground. His breathing had accelerated rapidly, but was only coming in short, raspy gasps. Edward's face quickly began to pale. Alice instinctively knew he wasn't getting enough oxygen into his lungs.

"Edward!" she yelled as she tried to remain calm. Squatting down as far as her belly would allow, she placed her hands on his face. His skin was cold and clammy, and a light sheen had started to form from perspiration. She looked into his sea green eyes, but they were vacant pits that were staring off into the distance.

She knew where his mind was. _Iraq._

"Listen to me," she said forcefully and stared straight into his eyes, trying to capture his attention. "It was a car, Edward. Just a car." She ran her hand over his stubble-covered cheek as his body started to shake. "I need you breathe for me, please?" Her voice was starting to crack. She hated seeing him like this; it was so debilitating. "Come on, Edward. Breathe." She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, attempting to bring him back to her.

After what seemed like forever, Edward let out a loud gasp, and finally released his breath. "Yes, that's it. Take a deep breath," Alice coaxed him encouragingly. Looking into his eyes, she saw that his mind was still elsewhere. Just when she thought he would be okay, Edward's body started to shake again and his breathing grew shallower.

With a cramp starting to form in her legs and stomach, Alice frantically tossed her purse to the ground and rummaged through it. "Come on! Where is it?" she yelled, cursing herself for carrying around such a large bag. Reaching into the far corner, she managed to pull out a small, round pill case, which held a few of Edward's Celexa. She carried an extra supply with her for emergencies like this.

"Edward, you have to try to breathe. Please, for me?" she pleaded with him. Her hands shook as she attempted to unscrew the cap. "Damn it!" she yelled in frustration when the cover refused to budge. After one last attempt, she gave up and smashed the case into the ground, cracking the plastic. The little white pills scattered over the black pavement, standing out like delicate snowflakes.

Alice quickly picked up one of the pills, paying no mind to the others that were scattered on the ground. She grasped Edward's hand off of his leg and flipped it palm side up. The pill securely in his hand, she lifted it toward his mouth. "I don't have any water, you'll have to take it dry," Alice told him. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, let alone comprehend what she was saying.

The rising panic in her voice resonated in Edward's ears, slowly bringing him back. He released another shaky breath and looked into Alice's eyes, watching as two small tears rolled down her cheeks. He popped the pill into his mouth and chewed it in order to feel the effect faster. He grimaced at the dry, bitter taste in his mouth and licked his lips in an attempt to get the rest of the chalky powder down.

"Come on," Alice said softly, pulling at his arm as she stood up. "Let's get inside." Edward rose to his feet and clutched onto her hand in fear as she led him into the building.

The gentle music in the elevator filled the silence between them. Alice had her arm wrapped securely around Edward's waist, almost as if she were supporting him. He rested his head upon hers and continued to take deep breaths, not saying a word. At the chipper ding of the elevator, Alice walked out, practically dragging Edward with her.

When they reached his door, Alice plunged her hand inside the front pocket of Edward's jeans and fished out the small set of keys he carried with him. He let go of her only momentarily so she could unlock the door. Once inside, he quickly latched himself back on to her arm. "Sit," she commanded tenderly as they walked past the couch.

As soon as Edward was settled, Alice slipped off her heels and made her way into the kitchen. She pulled his Brita pitcher out of the refrigerator with unsteady hands. _Don't drop it, don't drop it,_ she coached herself as she brought it over to the counter. She grabbed a glass out of the dish rack and slowly filled it with the refreshing water. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves before making her way back over to Edward. _The stress isn't good for him or the baby, _she thought as she ran her fingers through her hair and piled it in a bun atop her head.

Once calmed, she walked over to the couch were Edward still sat, not having removed his shoes or jacket. He stared at the TV; his eyes had already started to glaze over, the effects of the drug kicking in. She hated that he needed the anxiety medication on a daily basis. She knew it wasn't good for him in the long run. _I don't need him addicted to this shit,_ she reminded herself every time she watched him pop one into his mouth in order to calm and numb himself from the world.

Today was the first time she had seen him chew it. To say that it shocked her would be an understatement.

It terrified her.

"Here, Edward," Alice said, handing him the glass as she sat down next to him. He looked over at her and took a sip. "All of it." She eyed him as he chugged the remainder of the liquid. Edward's bottom lip began to tremble as he stared into her eyes.

"I'm sor –" he tried to get out, his words slightly slurred. "I'm sorry," he repeated, tears starting to form.

Alice shook her head. "Shhh, it's okay." She took him into her arms and rubbed his back. She helped him remove his shoes and his jacket and threw them over the back of the couch. "Come on, lay down," she suggested. Edward shifted his body so he lay on his side with his head resting in Alice's lap as she placed her feet on the ottoman. She turned on the TV and left the volume low, not caring what was on. Watching the images run over the screen, she ran her fingers through his hair, and Edward let out a relaxed sigh.

"It sounded like a bomb," Edward muttered quietly ten minutes later, startling her. He was so still she'd assumed he had fallen asleep

"I know, baby," she replied softly and ran her hand down his back. "Just try and rest."

"I love you, Alice," he said, his eyes starting to close.

"I know," Alice replied quietly. She fingered the two small, rectangular shaped charms that hung from the necklace beneath her shirt as tears continued to spill from her eyes.

* * *

><p>As five p.m. rolled around, Isabella stepped into the back room, her feet dragging behind her. She yawned as she untied her apron and unlocked her locker. Her right arm hung onto the door for support while she pulled out her jacket and purse.<p>

"Hey, Bee," Ben said cheerfully as he walked in through the back door. He was scheduled to close tonight with Becca, a sweet girl who was a freshman at Northwestern University.

"Hi," Isabella replied, wrapping her scarf around her neck twice and knotting it in the center. "It's pretty quiet out there tonight."

"Good, I could use a stress free evening with Becca." Ben smiled, his dimples popping up on his rounded cheeks.

"I bet," Isabella said with a smile and cocked her eyebrow. "I'll see you later, have a good night," she called as she stepped out into the brisk, bitter wind.

Isabella shivered uncontrollably as she unlocked her car door and climbed in the front seat. She didn't know how much more of the frigid weather she could take. That was the one of the things she missed about Seattle; it was never this cold. Sure, it rained often, but she didn't have to constantly worry about freezing her ass off as she walked to and from her car.

Isabella stuck the key into the ignition and said a quick prayer to the car gods. "Please, let Nancy start," she pleaded as she looked up at the roof of her car. Nancy had never done well in the cold. Isabella was surprised her dilapidated, navy Toyota Camry had made the twelve hundred mile trek from Seattle to Evanston. She was on her last leg, but Isabella hoped she'd hold out a while longer until she could afford a replacement, as sad as it made her.

After failing to start once, Nancy turned over the second time with the help of some gentle coaxing. She lightly tapped the accelerator with her foot as Nancy purred to life. "Thank you." Isabella smiled, holding her hands up in prayer. Checking behind her, she threw Nancy into reverse and headed home.

As soon as Isabella walked into her apartment, she headed straight into her bedroom and threw on her favorite pair of yoga pants. Reaching into the back of her closet, she pulled out an old, gray sweatshirt that was beginning the fray at the seams. She sighed happily as her numb toes found refuge in her slippers that she found hidden beneath the bed. The long pom-poms that hung off the tops of the slippers bounced and smacked her shins as she walked into the kitchen, making her smile.

Isabella perused her refrigerator and frowned when she discovered it was pretty bare. "Yogurt, pickles, milk, and chocolate pudding." She sighed and closed the door. _God, I need to go shopping._ Opening up a few cabinets, she found a can of tomato soup and a package of stale Saltines. _This will have to do._

As she waited for the soup to heat up, she fished her cell phone out of her purse and read through her missed text messages.

_**Bells, I tried calling. Your phone's disconnected – Dad **_

"No shit, Dad." She shook her head and read the next.

_**Dinner tonight? – Mel **_

She typed out a quick response to Melissa. _**I'd love to, but I can't. I'm catching up on some work.**_

Isabella felt guilty for avoiding Melissa. She was one of the only friends she had in Evanston, so they spent most of their time together outside of class. It was also very convenient that she lived a few blocks away and could be here in less than five minutes. But, she knew that if they had dinner tonight, Melissa would want to talk about this morning, and she wasn't ready for that yet.

Pouring her soup into a bowl and grabbing an open sleeve of crackers, Isabella sat down on the couch and pulled out her laptop. She set it on the small coffee table and fired it up. As it hummed to life, she ate a few spoonfuls of the creamy soup. After crunching up a few crackers and tossing them into the bowl, she grabbed her silver lesson planning binder out from underneath the table and opened it up to next week. She let out a sigh when she saw that she had nothing planned, and only had a few short days left before classes started up again on Monday.

Thumbing through the last lesson she'd planned, she smiled as she recalled how much her students enjoyed the art unit they completed before they went on break. She had a lot of fun creating art projects with them. Most of the crafts they made had to do with the holidays, making them easy gifts for the students to give to their family members. One of her favorite students, Michael, gave her one of the projects he made because he wanted her to put it on her tree. His generosity made her smile and she thanked him for thinking of her. Isabella hung the small reindeer close-pin ornament on the Charlie Brown Christmas tree she had purchased from the drug store a few days before Christmas. She had debated going back home to Seattle to see her father for the holidays, but by going home, she ran the risk of running into Mike, whom she wanted to avoid at all costs.

After glancing back through the past units she'd taught her students, she decided their next lesson would be on dinosaurs. _What kid doesn't like dinosaurs?_ She thought. _Even I was fascinated with them when I was younger. _Needing more information on the subject, she opened up a new window on her browser and typed 'dinosaurs' into Google. She researched the subject, jotting down facts while she finished off her soup and the sleeve of crackers. During her search, she discovered that the Field Museum located in downtown Chicago had an excellent dinosaur exhibit. They even had a life size model of a T-Rex who they called 'Sue.' She hoped Principal Cullen would allow her class to take the fieldtrip. Esme was a kind woman, but Isabella was a first year teacher, and it was doubtful she'd be allowed to take the class on a fieldtrip unsupervised. She figured it was worth a shot because she knew her students would enjoy it immensely.

An hour and a half later, very pleased with the information she had gathered, she cleaned up her dishes, grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerator, and connected her iPod into the small stereo she had in the living room. She knew she should probably get started on _The Grapes of Wrath,_ which she needed to finish reading by the end of her classes next week. Steinbeck was one of her favorites, so she knew she wouldn't have a problem finishing it on time.

Out of curiosity, she opened up her Gmail account to see if she had any new messages. There were a few emails from her mother, Renee, but she would respond to those later. She never quite understood why Renee couldn't pick up the phone and call her instead of sending an email every few weeks. Renee was never much of a talker. She only lived with her mother for five years before she moved in with Charlie. Their relationship consisted of an occasional email or letter and a telephone call on her birthday and major holidays. Isabella was fine with that; at least she was consistent. After deleting a few spam messages, she was about to shut down her computer for the night when she spotted an email from the very last person she expected.

_**New message from Newton. Mike10 gmail. com**_

"What the fuck?" Isabella questioned aloud. She took a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm. Her pointer finger hovered over the delete button as she worried her lip and contemplated if she wanted to read the message.

"Oh, what the hell," she said as she opened up the email and prayed he had sent it by mistake.

_**Bella,**_

_**I'm assuming you got my messages. I know I had the right number; your father is very gullible. Getting your number from him was as easy as taking candy from a baby. Why haven't you called me back? Did you even fucking listen to my messages? Probably not, you've always been a bitch like that – **_

Isabella stopped reading and shook her head at the screen. _How dare he speak to me like that? _Her finger lingered over the 'delete' button once again, but somewhere in the back of her mind she was curious as to what else he had to say.

_**I'm going to keep this short. You need to call me back; I have to speak with you. Bells, I mean it. I love you, baby. We can make this work. I know you wanted to take a break, but it's been long enough. You've probably started fucking another guy already for all I know. But, that's okay. I'll take you back, no matter what. Call me. **_

_**I love you.**_

_**Mike**_

Isabella shuddered. _That wasn't what I was expecting, _she thought as she immediately clicked 'delete.' The sound the email made as it traveled to the trash folder didn't bring as much relief to her as she'd hoped. _What doesn't he understand about the words 'we're done?' _She ended things between them; she wasn't about to start them up again, no way in hell. He didn't deserve it.

Glancing over at her cell phone, she saw that it was after nine p.m. Melissa was probably out. As much as she wanted to pick up the phone and spill everything to her best friend, she wasn't sure if she was ready to reveal her past quite yet. There were so many aspects of her life that she felt she had to keep hidden deep in a closet somewhere. If someone were to discover them, she'd probably lose what few friends she had.

She knew that there was only one person she could talk to about this, and he had a lot of explaining to do. Scrolling through her contacts, she tapped 'Dad' on the screen, and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"Charlie answered, clearing his throat.

"Hey, Dad." Isabella closed her computer and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap it around her legs.

"How are you, Bells? It's been a while."She could easily tell his attention was elsewhere, probably focused on the television.

"I'm fine, Dad," she lied.

"That's good,"Charlie replied quietly. Isabella thought she heard the faint sounds of a basketball game in the background.

"I got an interesting phone call the other day –"

"Yeah, about that…" His voice faded.

"I'm just going to cut to the chase, did you give Mike my number?" she asked, praying he hadn't betrayed her.

"Bells, he kept asking for it. He said that he needed to –"

"I don't care what he said he needed to do. I've repeatedly told you not to give him my number!" Isabella shouted and threw the blanket off of her legs. Walking into her kitchen, she started to pace nervously. _If Charlie gave him my number that easily, what else will he be willing to hand over to Mike?_

"I'm sorry, but maybe you should hear him out?" he suggested, causing Isabella to let out a loud guffaw.

"No, that's not happening. He doesn't deserve it, Dad. I told you what happened between us. It's over." She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling on it slightly.

"I know, but people change."

"He won't. Please, don't give him anything else."

"I may have –"

"What?" Isabella gasped in fear and shook her head. _My address? My work number? Please, no._

"He asked where you were. I swear, Bells, all I told him was that you were at school. That's it."

"Okay." She let out a sigh of relief. "Promise me you won't give him any more of my information. Please," she pleaded.

"I won't. Promise, Bells." Charlie cleared his throat. "I have to go, I'm on the midnight shift tonight at the shipping yard,"he said , like Renee, was never much of a conversationalist.

"Thanks, Dad. Be careful tonight." She had never liked the fact that he worked at the shipping yard, especially at night. It's a very dangerous job, but the pay was good.

"We'll talk soon?"he sounded unsure of himself.

"Yeah, Dad. I love you," Isabella said as she ran her fingers over the back of the couch.

"You too, Bells. Bye," he replied and hung up. Charlie also was never big on the 'I love yous.'

Exhausted from the tiring day, Isabella decided to call it a night. Dead bolting the door, she hit the lights and walked into her bedroom. She looked forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning; she just hoped that she'd be able to get a good night's sleep tonight.

* * *

><p>Edward was out cold for the majority of the night. The Celexa, combined with the toll the panic attack took on his body, knocked him out. His head remained on Alice's lap while she watched television and ran her fingers through his hair. Around ten thirty, Edward awoke, his mouth dry and rotten tasting after chewing on his pill.<p>

"Hey," Alice said as Edward cautiously sat up and turned to face her, sitting Indian-style.

"I'm sorry." He ran his hand over his face. "How long was I out?" he asked, his voice gruff.

Alice reached for his glass of water that was sitting on the side table next to her. "Um, about five hours," she said, handing him his drink.

"Shit." Edward stood and looked around for his cane, unable to recall where he placed it when he and Alice came inside the apartment.

"Here," Alice said, standing up and grabbing it for him from its spot leaning against the wall.

Edward nodded his thanks in return and headed into the kitchen. Alice watched him as he opened up the refrigerator, his fingers thrumming on the door, and grabbed ingredients to make a sandwich.

"Let me," Alice said as she slowly stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen. He ignored her and continued to stagger around looking for a plate and knife. It was almost as if he didn't know where anything was located in his own kitchen. _It's no wonder he can't find anything, he hasn't set foot in the kitchen in months,_ Alice thought as she took the mayonnaise, ham, and cheese out of his hands.

"Alice, I can make myself a damn sandwich. I'm not a complete invalid," Edward snapped at her. He yanked the ingredients out of her hands and watched as she flinched when the tub of mayonnaise tumbled to the ground. Edward groaned as he bent over to pick it up. Setting it onto the counter, he opened up a drawer in search for a knife, but came up empty and slammed it shut in anger.

Alice closed her eyes and counted to five. She always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but at times, Edward didn't think before he spoke. He never did realize how much his words and actions could hurt her.

After finally finding a knife, Edward assembled his sandwich, forcefully tossing the ham and cheese onto the bread. He glanced over at Alice and saw that she was staring down at the tiled floor, her toe scraping along the grout line. _I'm such an asshole,_ he scolded himself. "Do you want one?" he asked her, motioning down at the sandwich as she opened her eyes.

Alice shook her head and sighed. She made her way back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Edward followed after her, trying to gauge exactly how pissed off she was. Setting his sandwich down on the side table, he took her hand in his, only to have her jerk it away from him.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You don't deserve to be spoken to like that," he said quietly and gazed down at his hands, unable to look into her eyes.

Alice reached her hand up and touched his cheek, the whiskers of his beard tickling her fingers. She nodded at him, accepting his apology. He stared intently back at her and watched as a small smile spread across her face until it finally reached her jade green eyes, something that hadn't happened in a very long time.

* * *

><p>The rest of the week passed by quickly. Isabella continued to make progress on her lesson planning, as well as her assignments for school. She had successfully avoided Melissa's questioning glances every time she skirted around her reason for being upset a few days prior. She still wasn't ready to talk about that.<p>

Isabella had noticed that Edward made his way to the café every other day that week. Sometimes he arrived alone, but usually he was with his beautiful, pregnant wife. "I swear, that woman glows," Isabella remarked to Melissa on a lazy Thursday afternoon. Edward and said wife had been in the café drinking their normal drinks, tea and hot chocolate, for about an hour now. She was beginning to wonder if either of them worked, especially Edward, since he was here so often.

"I think you should talk to him. He's always staring at you," Melissa said as she wiped down the counter with a rag.

"He doesn't stare." Isabella rolled her eyes. _At least, I haven't caught him doing it,_ she thought to herself. She continued to watch the happy couple over in the far corner; their usual table was occupied when they walked in.

"He does too. I've caught him so many times. Like yesterday, when you were wiping down tables near closing time, he kept watching you. I think he has a thing for your ass. Not that I blame him, it is a nice ass." Melissa snickered, swatting her with a towel. Isabella yelped and jumped as a huge smile spread widely across her face.

The loud, joyful noise made Edward turn his head. It was her, the beautiful brunette behind the counter. He never had gotten up the courage to ask her name. He tuned Alice out as she continued to speak while he stared at her. He watched as she swatted her friend, the blonde, on the arm. With a flushed face, she retreated through the door behind the registers.

"So, tomorrow is Jay's –" Alice paused as she took a deep breath. Edward's attention was finally back on her and not the adorable barista he always had his eye on, even though he continuously denied it.

"Yeah, I called Emmett back. Although I don't know why he even bothered to call in the first place," Edward mumbled and tore at the white, paper napkin that lay under his empty mug.

"He's concerned." Alice shrugged her shoulders, causing Edward to snort loudly.

"Sure he is. He doesn't even care, Al. He's got other stuff to worry about." Edward angrily crumpled up what was left of his napkin and pushed it to the middle of the table.

"Do you think he would've called had he not cared?" Alice took a sip of her tea and watched Edward as he began to pick at a scab on his hand. _He's getting antsy. We'll need to leave soon,_ Alice thought sadly as she took his hand in hers, trying to keep him from making himself bleed.

"Anyway," Edward avoided her question. "He asked if I wanted to go to Nevin's for a drink. I don't have to go if you don't want me too. I can stay with you." More than anything, he wanted Alice to be happy tomorrow. _If I have to stay home and watch chick flicks or hold her while she cries, I'll be there. _

"No, I think you should go with Em. Have a shot of whisky for me, it was his favorite." Alice smiled fondly, recalling a happy memory.

Edward smiled in return. "What are you going to do?" he questioned, watching as her eyes glanced down at her ring as she twirled it around her finger.

"I'd like some time to myself tomorrow. I think I'll try to set up the baby's room." Alice regarded Edward sadly.

"Just be careful, I don't want you getting hurt putting that crib up."

Alice shook her head and smiled at him. _I love him, but sometimes he's overly protective._ "I'll be fine, Edward," she said and patted his hand. She stood up and wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Come on, let's go home."

Edward grabbed his jacked off of the back of his chair and glanced up at the cash register as he threw it on. He watched as the brunette filled a drink order for a customer with a smile that lit up her eyes. Alice caught him looking again and smirked. Taking his hand, they walked out of the café, the bells on the door jingling as they left.

* * *

><p>Jake came in with his delivery late afternoon, much later than he usually did. Isabella and Melissa were in the break room when he arrived, getting ready to head home for the day.<p>

"Hey Bee, Mel, how are you?" Jake asked, tossing a fifty-pound bag of flower onto the counter top.

"Hey, Jake," Isabella replied, pulling on her jacket.

Melissa saluted him with two fingers and a small smirk.

"What are you two doing tomorrow?" he asked, his signature toothy grim gracing his face.

The girls glanced at each other in an attempt to judge what he was going to ask. "Nothing, really." Melissa shrugged.

"Why? What are you doing?" Isabella questioned.

"There's this really good cover band playing at Nevin's tomorrow night around ten. I'm going with a few friends from home who are in town, as well as a couple guys from class, if you two want to join us?" Jake called from the walk in refrigerator while he put away the eggs and milk.

Melissa looked at Isabella and shrugged, silently asking if she was interested. Isabella smiled and nodded at her.

"Sure, we'll be there." Isabella grinned happily.

"Really?" Jake asked in a surprised tone. "Awesome. Let me give you my number, that way you can call when you guys are on your way and I'll look out for you." Jake took his cell out of his pocket and watched as Isabella dialed her number from his.

"All set?" Melissa asked, near the door, waiting on Isabella.

"Yep. We'll see you tomorrow, Jake." Isabella waved as she and Melissa stepped out the door.

"Sure thing, that sounds good." Jake waved back excitedly. His mega-watt smile graced his face once more, thinking about the prospect of finally getting to go out with Isabella.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought.


	6. Climb a Mountain

**A/N: **Hello, again! If you've added me to your story alerts/favorites thank you very much. A few lovely ladies have rec'd THP over on A Different Forest, which just amazes me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

As ever, I have to give hugs and kisses to my beta **busybrie, **and my pre-reader **Dandelion Mind. **I don't know what I'd do without them. PS: are you reading their stories? No? Do it! They're great. Also, I have to thank **ms-ambrosia** for her help with information on prescription drugs. I appreciate it so much.

I don't own Twilight. If I did, I wouldn't be a part-time cashier.

Suggested listening: 'Climb a Mountain' by Robert Francis.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Climb a Mountain<strong>

Edward sat on the edge of his bed and skimmed his hands over the navy down comforter, deep in thought. It was painfully hard to get out of bed this morning. His heart felt heavy the moment the sun started to peek through the sheer curtains that hung over his window; this day loomed over his head like a dark cloud that was constantly threatening rain. _How am I supposed to function knowing that today is my best friend's first birthday since his passing?_ He ran his hands over his exposed thighs, the fingers of his right hand pausing over his deep, jagged scar. He shuddered upon feeling its rough ridges as it brought back memories that he didn't want to re-live.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly rose from the bed and stretched his arms above his head, letting out a low groan. He ran his fingers through his just-from-the-shower wet hair that was finally beginning to grow back. Clad in only his black boxer-briefs, he turned around and watched Alice as she slept peacefully on the left side of his bed.

He thought back to the previous night when he was startled awake by his ringing cell phone around one a.m. Instinctively, he knew who it was. _Alice_. She was sobbing through the receiver, each ragged breath she took ripping through the phone and going directly into his heart. He offered to come and pick her up, but she refused. Twenty minutes later, he felt his bed dip down as Alice crawled across it. He hugged her body close to his as she cried, her wet tears dripping onto his bare chest as she clung to him tightly.

He remained in bed with her for the majority of the morning. She would fall asleep for an hour or so, only to wake up crying, reaching out for him. Edward tried his best to make her as comfortable as possible. As hard as today was for him, he knew it was one hundred times worse for her. Around eleven a.m., he quietly slid out of bed and stepped out of the apartment, knowing Alice should try to eat something. He headed down to the little bakery around the corner and picked up an everything bagel for himself and a cinnamon raisin bagel for Alice. Once back at his place, he toasted the bagels and covered them in a layer of cream cheese, making sure to put a little extra dollop on Alice's plate so she could dip her edges in it. He poured two glasses of orange juice and grabbed a bunchof grapes for them to share.

When he couldn't find a tray to put everything on, he pulled a small baking sheet out from the depths of his cabinet and set their simple breakfast on it, hoping Alice would like it.

She gave him a small smile when he walked into the bedroom and placed the cookie sheet on the bed between them. A small tear escaped Alice's eye, in part from the sadness today brought, but also out of Edward's sheer generosity. She knew today would be hard on him, but she hadn't expected him to rock her back to sleep when she woke up in the middle of the night crying, or bring her breakfast in bed.

They ate in silence and continued to watch a movie Edward had put on in the middle of the night when neither of them could sleep. Alice sniffled quietly as she ate her bagel and popped a few grapes into her mouth. "Thank you," she said when she finished dipping the last few pieces in the extra cream cheese on her plate. She couldn't look at him, in fear that she might break down.

"You're welcome," Edward replied as he swept a lock of hair that had fallen out of her bun back behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, longing for comfort.

"Did you get these from Bagel Art?" she asked, daring to look him in the eyes. When she saw that his were just as red as hers from tears shed, she glanced back down at the comforter, pulling on an errant thread.

"Uh, yeah." Edward cleared his throat, his voice cracking slightly. "You done?" he asked, placing her glass of orange juice on the cookie sheet before she could answer. Unable to sit there any longer, he climbed off the bed and walked into the bathroom.

"Edward –" Alice almost pleaded with him not to leave her alone.

Upon hearing her small, weak voice, he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. _The last thing I need to do is break down in front of her, especially today._ He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. Hunched over the sink, he eyed the orange bottle of Valium to his left. Without a second thought, he unscrewed the cap and popped one of the small pills into his mouth, swallowing it down with a palm full of water. After drying off, he walked back into the bedroom to find Alice standing in her panties, about to slip into a fresh pair of yoga pants that she always had stashed at Edward's.

"Are you leaving?" he asked as she threw back on the sweatshirt she was wearing when she arrived early this morning.

"Yeah, I just…I need to um…I have to go," she said quickly, her voice shaking. She walked out of the bedroom with the cookie sheet and set it on the counter, and grabbed her jacket off of the back of the couch. After roughly pulling it on, she grew flustered when she couldn't get the zipper over her belly. "Damn it!" she yelled, her chin trembling.

Edward limped over to her and gathered her shaking hands in his. "Let me," he said, taking her fingers off of the stubborn zipper and zipped it up with ease. "I'll drive you back to your place." He cupped her cheek, her eyes remaining downcast. She shook her head and glanced up into his eyes.

"I want to walk. I could use the fresh air." She wiped her tears away and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

Edward didn't feel comfortable with her walking by herself. He knew she wasn't in the right frame of mind right now, but telling her otherwise wouldn't have been the best decision.

"Okay." He tugged on the ends of her scarf playfully. She gave him a small smile in return, but it barely reached her round cheeks. "I'll stop by later tonight, before heading out with Emmett, all right?" He walked to the door, opening it for her.

"Sure," she replied and stepped into the hallway, tears gracing her eyes once again. Edward stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, whispering sweet words of comfort into her ear.

"I love you, Alice. We'll make it through this." He hugged her tight one last time before letting her go.

She nodded sadly at him and made her way down the hallway.

A loud, body-wrecking sob escaped Edward's mouth as he shut the door, causing him to hunch over as if in pain. He pounded his left hand against the wood and hung his head, large tears rolling down his cheeks. When he couldn't hold it together any longer, he sunk to the floor and struggled to control his breathing as his sobs overtook his body.

* * *

><p>Isabella regarded herself carefully in the full-length mirror that hung off the back of her closet door. "I don't know about this," she called loudly so Melissa could hear her. She was dressed in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans that hugged her in all the right places, and a cream top with a sheer, black overlay.<p>

"Why not? You look hot," Melissa said as she walked into Isabella's room and plopped down on her bed, somehow managing not to spill her glass of wine or the bag of pretzels she was holding. Isabella giggled at her efforts.

"Do you think it's too dressy?" she asked, meeting Melissa's gaze in the mirror. Isabella always felt self-conscious about her outfit selection whenever she was going out with Melissa, who knew how to dress for any occasion. She was one of those women who could wear a burlap sack and make it look like she just walked right off the runway. Tonight, Melissa chose to wear a casual, dark blue dress with sheer black stockings and a pair of sexy black heels. _I could never pull that outfit off,_ Isabella thought as she looked over at her best friend.

"No, you look great. Nevin's is pretty casual, so you'll be fine," she replied as she took a sip of her wine, rising from the bed and wandering over to Isabella's open closet. "What shoes are you going to wear?" she asked as she perused her limited selection.

"A pair of flats maybe." Isabella shrugged her shoulders she as bent down to pick up her favorite pair of black ballet flats.

"Seriously?" Melissa raised an eyebrow at her.

"Um, yes?" Isabella asked, confused. "Why, what should I wear?"

"These." Melissa pulled out a pair of black patent leather peep toe pumps and placed them in Isabella's waiting hands.

Isabella eyed them with caution. _Mike bought me these because he didn't approve of the shoes I wore when we went out,_ she thought sadly. She slipped them on her feet and regarded herself in the mirror. _They're just shoes; he no longer has a connection to them._ She took a step back from the mirror in order to get the full effect of her outfit with the shoes.

"Yes! You need to wear those. Jake will just love them," Melissa said with a smirk and waggled her eyebrows at Isabella.

Isabella shook her head. _These aren't for him. They're for me, _she thought. "What time are we leaving?" she asked as she walked out of the room, Melissa following behind her, hitting the light switch as she passed through the door frame.

"Well, Jake said the band starts at ten, so why don't we leave here around nine-thirty? It's not that far of a walk." Melissa sat down at a chair along the breakfast bar and watched as Isabella poured herself a generous glass of wine and then topped off Melissa's glass.

"Works for me," Isabella agreed as she leaned against the counter, her heels clicking against the tile floor.

"Cheers, babe. Here's to a good night." Melissa rose her glass toward Isabella's.

"Cheers!" Isabella replied, a smile gracing her face and reaching her eyes for the first time in a few days.

* * *

><p>When Edward arrived at Alice's apartment around seven-thirty p.m., he paused outside her door, unsure whether to knock or just use his key and walk right in. He opted for the former, not wanting to surprise her. He rapped his knuckles against the thick oak door twice, waiting patiently for her to respond. He couldn't remember the last time he had set foot inside her apartment. Her place was far nicer than his, but he understood her reason for not wanting to be here.<p>

After a beat, she hadn't responded, so he knocked again, a little louder this time. "It's open!" He heard her shout from the depths of her apartment. Edward shook his head and twisted the knob. _How does she know who's behind the door? I could be anyone: an axe murderer, a psycho; the list is endless,_ he thought as he stepped inside.

To say that the living room was a mess would be putting it lightly. There were piles of unfolded laundry scattered across the deep plum couch, separated into various piles: jeans, shirts, and undergarments. The coffee table, usually clean and home to various fashion and food magazines, was now covered in diapers, receiving blankets, onesies, and stuffed animals. _At least she has the baby stuff out of the boxes Cindy sent,_ Edward thought as he turned around and took note of the five boxes all labeled with Alice's name, shipped from her mother, whom she only heard from once or twice a year.

He gazed into the kitchen, which was relatively clean, except for the dark granite countertops, which were buried under piles of parenting books and magazines, a cluster of baby bottles, and an odd contraption that had a pump on it. _I don't want to know what that is. _Edward shook his head.

"Al?" he called as he walked out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the apartment's two spacious bedrooms. She didn't respond. "Where are you?" he asked as he peeked his head into the bathroom, finding it empty.

"In here," she responded in a small voice, barely above a whisper. Edward found her in the smaller of the two bedrooms, which was to be the baby's nursery, sitting in the middle of the floor. In her hands, she held what looked like a complicated set of directions. Scattered around her on the floor were various pieces of wood and a square cotton pillow.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping into the room and sitting down next to her. He looked over at a box that was in the corner of the room, with an image of a rocking ottoman on the front.

Alice dropped the directions and sniffled, wiping her sleeve across her nose in an unladylike fashion. "I'm trying to put this damn ottoman together. I got the rocking chair when I found out I was pregnant, but I never put the matching ottoman together." Alice picked up a few pieces, studied them, and set them back down with a sigh of defeat. "There are so many pieces," she said quietly as her bottom lip started to tremble.

"Hey, it's just furniture, don't cry," Edward comforted her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Alice leaned into him and rested her head against his chest.

"You smell good," she complimented him.

"Thank you," Edward said with a small laugh. "You bought me the cologne, so I would hope so." He attempted to cheer her up.

When Alice lifted her head off of his chest, he took it as a cue and started to stand up. Putting his arm around her waist to support her, he pulled Alice to her feet and wrapped her up in a hug. He kissed the top of her head and gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. Alice pulled him back to her and held on, almost as if she needed him to help her support herself.

He felt her tears begin to soak through his dark button down shirt before he heard the soft whimpers escape her mouth. His fingers sought out her chin and titled it upward so he could gaze into her red rimmed, tired eyes. "I'm going to call Em and tell him I'm not coming," he whispered as his wiped her tears away from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

Alice shook her head. "No, you should go," she said as she stepped out of his arms and walked out of the room and into the kitchen, fixing herself a cup of tea. "Besides, Emmett will be angry if you don't show."

"He'll get over it," Edward shrugged, leaning against the countertop next to her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Go. I'll be fine. I think I'll sort through all the stuff Cindy sent me; why she even bothered, I don't know." Alice had never called Cindy 'mom.' Her Aunt Mae raised her when the authorities took her out of Cindy's care. Mae was more of a mother than her birth mom had ever been. "Have you taken anything today?" she asked, glancing up at him over the rim of her mug, sensing his uncanny calmness, considering the circumstances of the day.

"Yeah, Doctor Alice." He rolled his eyes at her. "I took a Valium this morning and a Celexa a few hours ago." He shook his head at her motherly nature.

"Take it easy on the alcohol tonight," she told him instead of asking, knowing well enough that he wasn't supposed to mix his drugs and liquor.

He nodded at her and hoped to God she would be fine tonight. "Call me if you need me," he said as he shuffled toward the door, buttoning his jacket in the process.

"I will. Have a good time, and tell Em I said hi," Alice told him as she opened the door for him. "And call me when you get home tonight," she added.

Edward chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes, Mom." He kissed her on the cheek and stepped out the door. He gave Alice one more look in the eyes, silently asking her one last time if she wanted him to stay.

"Go," she said with a small smile and closed the door after him.

* * *

><p>The fire engine red wooden sign, displaying the pub's name, greeted Edward as he opened the doors. The whoosh of heated air was a welcome feeling on his face, taking the chill right out of him. The bar was still pretty dead, considering it was only around eight-thirty p.m. A small group of people sat and chatted around a table near the back of the expansive room, while a few families sat in the restaurant portion and finished up their meals. The bar, deep mahogany in color, was the centerpiece of the room, and where the remaining customers resided.<p>

Edward glanced around nervously for Emmett, hoping he was already here so he wouldn't have to sit at the bar next to someone he didn't know and chitchat. He never was one for the bar scene. He preferred to drink at home where no one was there to judge him on what he were wearing, who he was with, or if he had a little bit to much to drink.

He finally spotted Emmett at the far end of the bar, nursing a beer. He slowly walked up to him, not sure what to say once he reached the chair situated next to his. He awkwardly cleared his throat, causing Emmett to look in his direction.

"Oh, hey, Edward," Emmett said, standing up to shake his hand and wrap him up in a one armed hug. Edward was always startled by the size of Emmett. He was a pretty big guy, with broad shoulders and strong legs and had always towered over him. Growing up, Edward used to joke that he didn't have a neck due to all the weight lifting he did for football. Emmett was the star linebacker, while he was just his smart, adopted brother who played baseball and was in the guitar club.

"Hi," Edward replied quietly, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He draped his jacket over the back of the bar stool and sat down next to Emmett. He glanced over at him and saw that he was picking at the label on his bottle of beer. _Great, he's sick of me already. _

"You want something to drink?" Emmett asked in an attempt to put an end to the awkward tension.

"Yeah, a beer would be great." Edward glanced around the bar and noticed a group of men setting up sound equipment for the band that was going to be playing later on tonight. _Hopefully I'll be gone before then._

"So, how've you been?" Emmett questioned once their drinks arrived.

Edward took a long swig and glanced over at his brother. "I don't know. Fine, I guess," he shrugged.

"How's your leg? You're off the crutches," he noted.

"Yeah, I've been off them for a few weeks. I just use this now," he answered, holding up the black cane that he'd placed next to his chair.

"That's good. What about Alice? The baby?"

Edward gave a little chuckle. _What's with all the questions tonight? _"She's fine, and the baby is good. She's due some time in mid-April." Emmett nodded in response.

An hour and a few beers later, Emmett, after putting Edward through the Spanish Inquisition, stood from his bar stool and started putting on his jacket. "You're leaving?" Edward asked. "It's only nine thirty."

"Yeah, I should get going, I usually help Rose with the baby at night. The little guy has been pretty colicky lately." Emmett buttoned up his jacket and pulled his beanie over his ears.

_Ah, yes, Noah. My new baby nephew that I haven't been allowed to meet,_ Edward scolded to himself. _Unstable my ass. I'm not unstable. _"Well, before you leave, would you do a shot with me? For Jay?" Edward asked quietly as he looked into his eyes, almost afraid to ask him. They'd avoided the topic all night, which Edward was more than grateful for.

"Of course," Emmett replied somberly as he sat back down.

The bartender came over when Edward made eye contact with him. "Another round?" he asked.

"Can we have four shots of whiskey?" The bartender nodded and proceeded to pour the amber liquid into glasses.

"Four? You do know there are only two of us, right?" Emmett raised an eyebrow at him.

"One for you, one for me, one for Alice, and one for Jay," he responded quickly, as if it was a dumb question.

"Where is Alice tonight? I figured you two would be together." Emmett slid a shot over to Edward, took his own, and placed the other two between them.

"She's at her place. She wanted some 'alone' time tonight. I think she's setting up the baby's room."

"Well, tell her I said 'hello.' Rose does too. To both of you," he added in at the end, as if it was an afterthought.

_Sure she does. _"I will." Edward stared down at his shot as he thought about his best friend, wishing more than anything he could be here right now.

"To Jay," Emmett murmured, lifting his shot glass in the air.

"Jay. We miss you, man." Edward rose his glass, knocked it gently against Emmett's, and slammed it down. The golden liquid burned like fire down his throat, heating him from the inside out.

Emmett rose from his stool once again and clapped Edward on the shoulder. "I'll see you around."

"Thank you," Edward mumbled, "For, you know, coming out with me tonight." He couldn't look his brother in the eyes.

"Of course. He would've liked it. Have a good night, Edward."

"Yeah, he would've," Edward replied in a voice barely above a whisper as Emmett walked out the door.

He stared down at the last two remaining shots and took them without a moment's hesitation.

* * *

><p>Nevin's was crowded by the time Isabella and Melissa arrived giggling at nothing in particular, the shots they took before leaving Isabella's apartment starting to take effect on their bodies. Melissa was initially shocked that Isabella had agreed to meet up with Jake tonight. She knew that he'd been pining over Isabella since she started working at the café, but she'd never shown interest in him. Recently, she'd thought that Isabella had a thing for the married dad-to-be, but he was obviously unattainable. She wasn't sure what had been going on with her best friend this week; all she knew was that tonight, they both just needed to blow off some steam.<p>

"Did he text you back?" Melissa asked as they walked farther into the bar, out of the cold, and scanned the area for Jake.

"Yeah, he did. He also included four exclamation points and a smiley face in his response." Isabella rolled her eyes, showing Melissa the text.

"Someone's eager to see you," she snickered.

"Maybe this was a bad idea. All I really wanted was to relax tonight, not lead him to believe that this is a date of some sort," Isabella said, nervously picking at the hem of her shirt.

"Sorry, babe. Had I known, we could've stayed in, ordered take-out, watched shitty TV, and gotten piss drunk by ourselves." Melissa wrapped her friend into a hug in the middle of the crowded bar.

"It's okay. Let's just see where the night takes us," Isabella said with a sigh. Melissa nodded at her in return and smiled. "Oh shit, here he comes, we've been spotted." Isabella had nowhere to hide from Jake's advancing form.

"Hey! There you guys are. Did you just get here?" Jake asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, just a little while ago," Melissa replied, her eyes darting back and forth between Jake and Isabella. He couldn't stop staring at her. "I'm going to get something to drink. Bee, what do you want?"

"Something strong," she answered, her eyes full of dread as Jake took her hand in his and led her over toward his friends.

An agonizingly long twenty minutes later, and after having met all of Jake's friends who kept smiling awkwardly at her like they knew something she didn't, Melissa arrived with her drink. She was incredibly grateful for the bartender, who must have listened to Melissa when she told him to make their cosmos extra strong. "Thank you," Isabella said, handing Melissa money for the drink.

"Don't worry about it; I have a feeling you're going to need a few more of these tonight," Melissa shouted over the band that had just begun their set. Isabella smiled and nodded at her, dancing along with her friends to the music.

A few songs later and with two empty glasses in her hand, Melissa headed back up to the bar for another round. Isabella desperately hoped the wait wasn't too long, because she could only avoid Jake's advances for so long.

"Bee, I have to say, you look really great tonight," Jake said, leaning into her ear so she could hear him over the loud music. His breath, which smelled of cheap beer, blew across her skin, making her instantly shiver and tense up. _I need him away from me. Now._

"Thanks, Jake," she yelled back as a guitar solo kicked in.

"I hope you're having a good time." He smiled at her and took a drag of his beer.

Isabella nodded at him and took a step back as he started to advance on her. "Your friends are really great." _God, Mel, where are you? _she questioned, glancing around frantically for her best friend.

"Yeah, they're cool." He shrugged and lifted his hand to her shoulder, slowly dragging his hand down her arm to encircle her waist. "I'm just happy I get to spend some more time with you. I've been wanting to do this for a while." He leaned in closer toward her.

_Oh, God no, _Isabella thought as she noticed his eyes start to close and he licked his bottom lip.

"Hey! There you are! Don't you love this song?" Melissa shouted as she approached them just in the nick of time. She grabbed Isabella's hand and pretended to dance with her, effectively saving her from Jake.

"Thank you," Isabella said as she let go of her savior and took a large sip of her cocktail. Jake looked over at her awkwardly, not sure of what just happened. He shrugged and moved over to his friends whom were sitting at a crowded table watching the band. _Hopefully he now understands that I'm not interested. _"What took so long? I was worried you'd gotten lost."

"The line was five people deep," Melissa shrugged and sipped on her cosmopolitan. "While I was waiting, I saw someone I think you might be interested in talking to."

Isabella let out a loud guffaw. _This'll be good,_ she thought. "Oh, really now?" She cocked her eyebrow in question.

"Yep," Melissa replied with a devious smile.

"And who would that be?"

"Edwin." She laughed. "I mean, Edward. The guy from the café, the one who has a thing for your ass. He's over at the bar looking a little rough," Melissa said quickly as Isabella's eyes grew wide.

"No, he isn't." Isabella shook her head. "Why would he be here?"

"Well, this is a bar, so I assume he's here for a drink, or many drinks, by the looks of him." She watched as Isabella peered her eyes over to the bar, searching him out.

"I don't see him. You're such a liar." Isabella smirked at her.

"He's over at the far end of the bar, alone, sipping on a whiskey. Go see for yourself if you don't believe me." Melissa gave her a gentle nudge.

Isabella looked back over at Jake who smiled widely after catching her eye. He rose off of his chair, straightened out his shirt and slowly made his way over to her and Melissa.

"Shit, he's coming. Take my drink," Isabella said frantically, not wanting to have to deal with Jake and his forward behavior for the second time tonight.

"Go," Melissa told her, taking Isabella's drink in her free hand. "He's over in that direction." She tilted her head to the left.

Isabella took a deep breath in an attempt to gather her nerve to go and seek him out. Melissa smiled happily at her and nodded her head 'yes,' encouragingly.

"Okay," Isabella said softy and turned in the direction of the bar. She hoped she had enough liquid courage left within her. The rhythmic beat of the bass guitar thrummed over the bar's speakers, its consistent thumping matching her heartbeat as it increased in pace the closer she made her way over to him.

Despite the noise, she swore she could hear the heels of her shoes click-clacking across the wooden floor. Apprehension mounted quickly inside her when she caught a glimpse of the dark mahogany wood of the bar. She cautiously weaved her way through the throng of patrons, glancing around for him occasionally. At last, she finally spotted him alone at the end of the bar, just where Melissa said he would be. She took a deep breath, hoping it would calm her nerves, and started toward him.

_Oh, God. I can't believe I'm doing this._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please, don't hate me. It had to end there. Okbai :)**


	7. Circle in the Square

I'm back! I swear, I didn't abandon THP. I know it's been a while, but I started a new job and have been busy. RL…*sigh*

As always, I have to thank my lovely beta **busybrie** who makes me smile all the time and my Bill Murray loving, awesomesauce pre-reader **Dandelion Mind. **ILY both and can't thank you enough! xx

I don't own Twilight.

Suggested listening: 'Circle in the Square' by Marcus Foster.

I also posted my entry for the Pop the Question contest. I didn't win, but I'm pretty proud of its fluffiness.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Circle in the Square<strong>

"Another round?" the bartender asked, his arm leaning on the bar to support his weight as he gazed at Edward who was hunched over, head down, staring intently at the dry bottom of his glass.

"Make it a double," Edward grumbled roughly. He released the death grip he had on the glass in anticipation of the bartender taking it out of his hands. When he didn't budge. Edward eyed him and cocked his eyebrow. "Did you hear me?" He pursed his lips in annoyance.

"I can't over serve you." He shrugged.

"Well, I'm drinking for two tonight, so get to pouring, buddy." Edward pushed his glass forward, knocking it against the bartender's hand.

"One more, and then I have to cut you off," he said as he poured a generous two fingers worth of Jameson. The ice cubes clinked against glass when he slid it back toward Edward, along with a basket of mixed nuts. "Eat something," he said, walking to the opposite end of the bar to flirt with a group of scantily clad girls.

Edward scooped a handful of nuts into his mouth before taking a sip of whiskey, reveling in the feeling of the cool liquid as it flowed over his lips. The mediocre band and the other patrons in the bar droned on behind him as his mind drifted to a happier time and place.

Before he knew it, he could see the deep wooden grains of the bar through the bottom of his glass and the air in the room had quickly grown sickly hot as the band's music picked up and people started to dance. Edward popped open one more button on his shirt, revealing a smidgen of chest hair that peeked out from the scooped neck of his gray tank. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up past his forearms hours ago, but it provided no relief.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly in an attempt to regain his composure, which he knew was slipping fast. He needed to be able to convince the bartender to pour him one more drink. _One more and I'll leave,_ he told himself as he swept his hand over his face, his index finger hung up on his bottom lip as he dragged his hand downward.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a sudden movement. He'd been so wrapped up in his own bubble that he had forgotten that he wasn't the only person in the bar. He quickly glanced over his left shoulder and spotted a familiar face.

_The barista from the café. _

She hadn't spotted him yet, so he took full advantage of admiring her while she glanced around the room, looking for something or someone; which one it was, he couldn't be sure. Her mahogany locks hung in loose curls that framed her face. His eyes roamed languidly over her chest and down her lean legs. He took note of the heels she wore instead of her usual flats, which he was accustomed to. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he looked away, as much as it pained him.

As she continued to walk in his direction, his palms began to sweat. _She's the very last person who needs to see me like this._ He spun his stool to the right and sunk as far down into his seat as possible, in hopes that she wouldn't spot him. Unfortunately, his sudden movements made him wobble unsteadily. As much as he'd always wanted to talk to her when he was in the café, seeing her out of her element frightened him. He wasn't sure what she would say or do, and that terrified him. He peered over his should one last time, praying that she had disappeared.

Their eyes met, causing Edward to panic and quickly look back down at his drink.

"Edward?" she asked in her sweet, soft voice.

"Fuck," he muttered and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Maybe this was a bad idea,<em> Isabella thought to herself as she approached him on unsteady feet, her knees rattling. He looked absolutely petrified, hunched over the bar and cowering into his chair as if it would conceal him. He was staring into the bottom of his glass longingly, wishing for it to magically fill back up again. She took note of his black button down, which had a few buttons popped open at the top and the sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong forearms and a lick of black ink peeking out from under the left cuff. The dim lights shone down on his hair, but masked his face in a dark shadow. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she eyed him one last time. She stood still when he turned in his chair, practically falling off. _It's now or never, Bee._

When she muttered his name, her voice came out hesitantly. She watched as his lips mumbled something to himself before his eyes closed angrily. With her liquid courage still surging through her veins, she made her way to the seat adjacent to his and placed her hand atop the high back stool. She observed him closely, not wanting to startle him.

After what felt like minutes, his broad shoulders rose as he inhaled a deep breath, calming himself. His eyes opened and he risked a glance up at her from under his eyelashes.

"Hi," Isabella said nervously.

Edward blinked at her a few times, not registering the fact that she was speaking to him. He stared at her lips as they moved, catching a glimpse of her pearly white teeth.

"Are you all right?" she asked after taking note of his glassy, vacant eyes.

"What's your name?" he questioned, licking his lips, his voice raspy.

"My name?" _I guess he isn't into pleasantries tonight. _He nodded and sat upright, turning his body toward hers. "Isabella," she said quietly.

Edward's ears perked upward, not catching what she had murmured in her soothing voice.

"Isabella," she repeated into his ear, stepping back afterward, so as to not overwhelm him.

"Bella," Edward mused, a small smile graced his lips

"No, it's –"

"Sit. Please." He pulled out the stool with his left hand, his right clutching the bar so he wouldn't topple over.

She did as he asked, not bothering to correct him, even though only two people called her by that name, one of whom she wanted to erase from her life completely. Edward looked away from her as she sat and spun his empty glass in his hands.

"What are you drinking?" she asked, needing to fill the air between them.

"Jameson. It's gone," he sighed sadly. "Where's your drink?"

Before she could respond, the bartender made his way over to them and asked what Isabella would like to drink.

"She'll have a whiskey," Edward answered, giving her an eye before she could object.

"You sure you want a whiskey?" the bartender asked, sensing she wasn't the type of woman who liked to sip hard liquor.

Isabella glanced over at Edward, who scratched the back of his neck with his long fingers.

"Yes, please." The bartender nodded in response and poured her two fingers worth before walking away.

"Thanks," Edward muttered, taking the drink before she could get her hands on it.

"You weren't supposed to have another, were you?" Isabella leaned into the bar, crossing her arms over the top of it.

"According to him," Edward cocked his eyebrow toward the bartender, "No. But I'm celebrating tonight, so I don't give two fucks what he thinks." His voice was gruff and harsh. He took a large gulp and clenched his teeth as the whiskey burned his throat once again.

"What are you celebrating?" Isabella attempted to peer into his eyes, but they remained downcast, watching as the liquid ripped like waves in the glass.

"It's my best friend's birthday," he whispered after a few beats, taking another sip.

"Oh? Where is he?"

Edward licked his lips and regarded her. "He's uh…he's not here." His eyes darted back and forth between his drink and her.

She stared as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down his stubble-covered throat as he took another gulp, only half of the whiskey remaining. "He's not here?" Her eyebrows drew together, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

"No," he snapped.

"Where is he?" she asked. _Why in the world would he celebrate someone's birthday alone?_

"Are you here alone?" He changed the subject abruptly, downing the rest of his drink and placing the empty glass in front of her.

"No." Edward eyed her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate. _If he's going to give me short answers, so will I. _She was shocked his eyes were still on her, watching her closely.

"Who're you with?" His words slurred together now.

"Melissa. She's the –"

"Your friend from the café; the blonde," he finished her sentence for her.

"Yeah, and we're here with a few other friends."

"Why hasn't the damn bartender come back and asked if you wanted another drink?" Edward leaned farther over the bar, trying to catch his attention.

"Probably because he knows you drank it." Isabella shrugged.

"Asshole," Edward huffed loudly. "Well, fuck it, if I won't be served, I'll just go somewhere else." He pushed himself up, using the bar as leverage. Misjudging the distance to the floor, his footing faltered. Isabella rose quickly and caught him, her left arm grabbing his bicep, her right clutching to his hip before he toppled to the floor. "Shit," Edward grumbled, righting himself.

"You all right?" she asked, her hands remaining on him.

He glanced down at the hand that rested on his hip, her fingers ghosting over the black leather of his belt. He pulled back from her. _I don't deserve to be touched by her,_ he thought. "I'm fine," he muttered, stepping beside her. He shuffled forward a few feet before he stumbled again.

Isabella grasped his forearm, his skin sweltering beneath her touch. "No, you're not. Let me help you get a cab."

"No, I drove," he slurred. He pulled his keys out of his pants pocket and shook them in her face. Isabella's eyes went wide.

"Why don't you give me those?" She held her hand out, only to have him swat it away.

"Where's my damn cane?" he asked no one in particular, searching around for it. Isabella kept her hand on his forearm, keeping him steady as he stumbled around his chair to look for it.

"Here, it's right here." She picked it up and placed it into his waiting hand. She stood in front of him, his back facing the bar, hindering him from escaping.

"What're you doing?" His words slurred together and his head tilted down, staring into her eyes.

Her chest felt tight. "I'm not letting you drive home, or to another bar, if that's where you plan on going," she murmured, fearful of his reaction.

"Who the hell are you? And why the fuck do you care so much?" His voice rose as he jerked his arm out of her delicate grasp. The motion made him sway and clutch the bar for support. "God damnit!" He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp roughly.

"Come on." Isabella placed her hand lightly on his arm that was clutching to the bar. "Let me help you." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.

Edward clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, contemplating what he wanted to do. He regarded her intensely, unsure of her motives. After a few minutes, he nodded mutely and handed her his keys.

"I need to tell my friends I'm leaving. Do you want to sit here and wait or –"

"I'm not a five year old," he snapped back at her.

"I didn't say that." She shook her head at him. _He's drunk, _she told herself before she retorted anything stupid.

He raised his arm, motioning her to proceed. Isabella spun on her heel and made her way over toward Melissa, Jake, and his friends. "So, I have to ask –" She looked over her shoulder before continuing, only to realize that he wasn't there. "Edward?" she asked, knowing it was pointless because there was no way he was going to hear her over the thumping, steady beat of the band. She scanned the crowd, praying he hadn't left. _Well, if he did leave, he couldn't have gotten far without his keys._

She attempted to make her way back to the bar, only to become trapped between the bodies that swayed and bounced to the music. _Honestly, the band isn't even that good, why are you dancing? _she thought, annoyed. She squeezed her way between a couple whose lips were locked tight and an older gentleman dancing by himself near a younger group of girls. _Really? _she judged, rolling her eyes. _Find someone your own age, buddy._ The sea of bodies finally parted and she spotted Edward still by the bar, clutching on to it tight, unable to move.

"Do you need help?" she asked, gazing into his eyes. Edward ran his hand over his face and swayed again. "Hey –" Isabella wrapped her hand around his wrist and gently tugged it away from his face. "It's okay if you need help," she reassured him. Edward nodded before sitting down on an empty stool.

The bartender knowingly slid a glass of water over to Isabella, who handed it to Edward. "Here's some water. Drink it, and then we can go."

"Yes, Alice," Edward smirked before chugging it down as if he was parched.

_Alice? Who's that, his wife? _she asked herself. "Okay…" she responded as he rose off the stool, his body brushing up against her as he stood up straight, making her gasp. She watched as Edward licked his lips as he stared down at her. "Come on, they're over this way." She started to walk forward before he grasped her with his left hand. Edward stayed close behind her, his pinky hooked through her belt loop. She wasn't sure whether it was all the alcohol that had made him behave this way, or if he was just naturally like this, but she was betting on the former.

Luckily, the crowd had thinned out slightly as the band played a ballad, leaving a few couples slow dancing throughout the room. Isabella checked back on Edward occasionally, his hand remaining on her hip. He kept his head down, his footing in line, knowing that if he fell, she was going down with him. At last, she spotted Melissa's blonde, wavy hair and sighed.

Melissa's eyes went wide as she walked up to Isabella and saw Edward lagging behind her. "What's going on, Bee?" she asked, peeking behind Isabella's shoulder at Edward, who glanced at her, his eyes hazy.

"I'm going help Edward get home," she spoke in her ear as Jake approached them.

"Uh, okay?" Melissa looked between her best friend and the man behind her, who was standing a little to close for comfort.

"He can't drive. I can't leave him –" Isabella looked back at Edward worriedly,

"Bee, there you are," Jake said as he stepped up next to Melissa. "I wasn't sure where you disappeared to." He looked over her shoulder and caught Edward's eye. "Who's he?"

"Sorry, this is my friend Edward. I'm helping him get home," she rushed.

"Edward, huh?" Jake questioned, sizing him up. Thankfully, Edward remained silent, his chest brushing up against Isabella's back as he inhaled steadily.

"Yeah, it's Edward," he muttered under his breath, his lips close to Isabella's ear. His breath blew across her cheek, making goose bumps pop up instantaneously on her arms.

"Well, _Edward, _Isabella and I are kind of on a date, so maybe you should get yourself a cab?" Jake snapped.

Edward scoffed. "I really don't care what you –"

"Okay, let's get going," Isabella interrupted them, fearing the worst. "Jake, I'll see you later," she called, turning to Edward and grabbing his hand. Jake shook his head and walked back to his friends.

"Bee, call me." Melissa eyed her, concerned.

Isabella nodded in response as Edward dropped her hand, choosing instead to wrap his arm around her waist for support as he stumbled along beside her.

The doorman wished them a 'good evening' with a wink as they walked past him and out into the brisk air. Isabella nodded at him and wrapped her free hand around the opening of her jacket, keeping her neck warm.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, neither one of them sure what to say. The fresh air seemed to make Edward even more unsteady on his feet, resulting in him holding her waist tighter. She wrapped her arm around his waist when his weight started pushing her to the left. Once she righted him, she cleared her throat. "So, where's your wife tonight?" Isabella asked as they continued to make their way up the street, Edward's feet scuffing noisily along the sidewalk as they went.

"My what?" He leaned his right ear down so he could hear her properly.

"Your wife," she snapped.

Edward snorted loudly. "Fuck if I know."

"You mean to tell me you have no idea where your own wife is?" She shook her head at him. _You should be with her right now, not being helped home from the bar by a woman you barely know, _she criticized. He pointed to a vehicle parallel parked a few feet ahead of them, motioning to her that it was his. Isabella nodded and walked him to the passenger side door. He leaned his back against it and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, whacking the bottom forcefully, making a stick jump up from its confines.

"I haven't talked to that bitch in months. She's probably fucking some corporate executive…I don't even know," Edward rambled as he pulled out his silver lighter. "Pretty sure she isn't my wife…not any more." He clicked back the metal wheel and failed to get the flame to appear. His hands shook and he grew increasingly flustered. "Fucking hell!" he shouted.

Without muttering a word, Isabella pried the lighter out of his hands. He eyed her intently as her thumb slid down the wheel, spinning it with ease. The gas caught the flame and made the comforting sound as it shot up through the hole. Edward held his cigarette between his lips as he leaned forward, his thumb and forefinger pinching it for support, and lit up. Isabella licked her lips at the sight of the golden end of his Marlboro bobbing along his puckered bottom lip.

Edward inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it slowly upward, mindful of blowing it in Isabella's face. She watched him as he took another deep drag and swayed against the car. "I should probably get you home now," she muttered, glancing up at him under her eyelashes.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his cigarette danced along his bottom lip as he spoke. "You don't even know me." He stared at her and shook his head. "You don't want to know me," he murmured and turned his head to the left, blowing out another puff of smoke.

"Because," she started as she reached for the door handle when Edward slid along the body of the car. "You were alone, and you looked like you could use some help." She held open the door for him and waited while he pinched the end of the cigarette in his hand before placing his right hand on the roof for support and climbing inside, tucking his cane between his leg and the center console.

Isabella closed the door and noticed when Edward flinched at the muffled sound. _What am I doing?_ she asked herself as she walked around the front and hopped into the diver's seat. He looked over at her and watched as she struggled to find the ignition in the dimly lit vehicle. "Come on," she whined, the anxious energy starting to fill the air around them. Edward continued to watch her struggle. After a few more tries, she found it on the dash and not on the steering wheel. "Where to?" she asked, looking over at him. He was breathing heavy, with his head was between his knees.

He heard her, but he wasn't ready to respond yet, in fear of what would come out of his mouth – words or something else entirely. He groaned when he sat up and pushed the power button for the window. It whizzed as it lowered, the cool air rushing in. "I live off of Melburn," he uttered, taking a drag off of his cigarette.

"I'm not sure where that is."

"God," he moaned as if he was in physical pain. "Turn right on Lake, left on Davis. Get back on to –" he interrupted himself as he stuck his head outside the window and began to gag, his butt falling to the ground.

"Oh God." _Please don't get sick, please don't get sick! _she pleaded.

The window went up when Edward stuck his head back inside. He blew a deep breath out of his perused lips. When Isabella asked if he was all right, he nodded his head, even though it was a complete lie. _I'm far from all right. _"Melburn is off of Sherman." He put his head in his hands and ran his fingers over his scalp.

"Okay," Isabella said simply as she pulled out of the spot and headed down the road, following his directions. She glanced over at him occasionally, but his head remained down, his breathing shallow. She couldn't be sure if he was awake or not. "Why were you alone tonight, Edward?" she asked after a few minutes, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Huh?" he asked, looking at her though the small triangle that had formed between his bicep and forearm where it was perched on his knee.

"You're never alone. At least, I never see you alone. You said you were celebrating someone's birthday, so why would you be –"

"Stop it. Please?" He couldn't handle her rambling, not now.

"Then answer me. Where is the woman you're always with, the pregnant one?" She purposefully avoided using 'wife.'

"Alice?" he asked.

"Sure. Alice, or whatever your wife's name is." She couldn't help it; she had to bring it up. She'd most likely be at his place when they arrived, and she needed to know how she was going to explain what she was doing with her husband and father-to-be.

"God, I love Alice," he sighed happily and sat up, leaning his head back against the black, leather headrest.

Isabella shook her head. _Obviously you love her; you married her and knocked her up,_ she thought bitterly. "Will she be home when we get there?" she asked anxiously, turning back on to Sherman.

"She's at home," he replied with a shrug.

"Of course she is," Isabella huffed.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he shouted as they arrived at a red light, his body turned toward hers.

"I'm not the one with a problem, Edward," she snapped. _Why am I arguing with a man I hardly know?_

"What is it?"

The light turned green and Isabella's foot remained on the brake. "I'm trying to imagine what it's going to look like when I get you into your house and I see your pregnant wife sitting on the couch waiting for you to get home. What is she going to think, Edward? Can you tell me that?"

"The light's green," he whispered. Isabella huffed before the car jerked forward. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he stammered, his words still slurring.

"Yes, I do. I see you together all the time. What am I supposed to think?" Isabella threw her hands up in the air.

"Turn right on Melburn," he commanded. "It's here, on the right," he pointed, showing her where to turn into the apartment complex before she passed it.

"Shit," Isabella mumbled as she slammed on the breaks and quickly turned into the parking lot.

"Christ, watch it. Park over there." He nodded his head forward toward the back of the lot, past the visitor parking. Once the car was finally in park, Edward threw the door open and tumbled out. He stood hunched over with the door ajar, his hands on his knees, spit falling to the ground beneath him.

"Come on, let's get you inside," Isabella said after she walked around the hood of the car and placed her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly. Edward stood upright and wiped his hand across his mouth. Isabella reached around him into the car and pulled out his cane, and handed it to him.

Even with the cane in his hand, he was still unsteady on his feet. "Here, put your arm around me," Isabella told him, lifting his right arm and draped it over her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his waist and made their way over to the door.

"God damn fucking stairs," Edward complained when they reached the entry door.

"It's only four steps," Isabella muttered under her breath. She helped him up them, carrying his weight the entire way. "You should probably call her before we get inside," she told him as he leaned against the wrought iron railing, Isabella standing in front of him, their feet touching.

"For the love of God, Alice is not my wife!" He hung his head and ran his hand over the back of his neck. He was perspiring, despite the frigid temperature.

"But, she has a ring, and she's pregnant. If she's not your wife, then who is? I know you're married. I saw the tan line on your finger. If you're not, then –"

The sound of wretched vomit interrupted Isabella's rant. Edward's close proximity meant that she was directly in the line of fire. She closed her eyes and tilted her head upward, holding her breath as she felt the residual splatter bounce off of the cement steps and land on her feet. The front of her shirt also fell victim to the horrendous vomit, as Edward had hunched forward toward her instead of turning his back toward the dormant hydrangea bushes that ran along the edge of the stairs.

"Oh, fuck," Edward groaned as Isabella backed away from him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Where are your keys?" Isabella asked, ignoring his apology. She watched as Edward fumbled around in his jacket pockets.

"Shit, I don't know." He couldn't look at her, in fear of what he would see in her eyes. Isabella stepped forward, mindful of the vomit on the ground, and stuck her hand into his right pocket to search for his keys. When she came up with nothing, she repeated the motion in his left. She could feel his eyes on her. His hand brushed over her arm as she pulled his keys out and shoved them forcefully into the lock.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward the elevator, not trusting him on the stairs, given his drunken state. Their ride was silent, aside from Edward's labored breathing. He inhaled and exhaled through his mouth in an attempt to calm himself and his stomach. _I don't need, nor want to throw up again, especially in front of her,_ he thought.

The ding of the elevator startled them and filled the thick silence in the cabin. Isabella waited for Edward to step out and show her the way, but his feet remained glued to the red-carpeted floor. She tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and he flinched, effectively snapping out of his daze. He stepped out of the elevator and stumbled toward his door.

With his keys still in her hand, she unlocked his door after he haphazardly pointed out which key to use. She felt odd leading him into his own apartment, but he could barely walk. She peeked over at the couch, where she anticipated his wife to be sleeping waiting for him to arrive home, but she wasn't there. Glancing into the kitchen, she noted that the light above the sink was left on. _Maybe she's in bed._

"Where's your bedroom?" Isabella asked him, her voice barely above a whisper, just incase his wife was home.

"My bedroom, huh?" Edward snickered and squeezed her hip.

"Yeah, and your _wife _had better not be in it," she muttered the last part under her breath.

Edward stopped mid stride in the hallway. Fearing what was about to come, Isabella stepped back from him. Edward's body hunched over and his hand flew quickly to his mouth. "Not again," Isabella moaned. She watched as Edward half-ran-half-tripped his way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, not bothering to turn on the light as he raced inside.

Isabella ran her fingers through her hair and tried to tune him out, but the noise echoed down the hall, making her involuntarily gag. She turned around and headed for the kitchen in search of something for Edward to drink. She opened up a cabinet near the sink, assuming that is where the cups would be found, and pulled one out having guessed correctly. She turned on the tap and waited a second for the water to cool significantly. Once she filled up the glass, she made her way back to the bathroom.

The light was still off when she entered. "Edward?" she called, as to not startle him. He let out a low groan in response, unable to speak. She ran her hand along the textured wall, feeling for the light switch. She turned it on and winced at the harsh light. His bathroom was moderately sized. She took note of the large shower with multiple showerheads and the granite counter-tops. It didn't look like something that Edward would've picked out. _His wife probably designed it,_ she sighed.

She set his glass of water on the dark granite and rested her hip against the lip of the sink. Edward took a deep breath and flushed the toilet. Grabbing a few squares of tissue, he wiped his mouth and tossed them into the trash with a scowl on his face. "I brought you some water," Isabella told him quietly.

Edward closed the lid and used it as leverage to rise on his shaky legs. Isabella watched as he clutched the corner of the counter, a few inches from her hip. He froze as he shuffled in front of her as she turned to him, her back facing the large mirror. He reached for the glass and chugged down the water, placing it down, the glass clanking harshly against the countertop, when he finished.

Edward leaned in closer to Isabella, his right hand found her hip while his left grasped on to the edge of the counter, anchoring him to that spot. He licked his lips and gazed at her, unable to believe that she was here with him. "I don't deserve this," he grumbled, his voice rough. "I don't deserve you."

"Edward –" she whispered. _You're deceiving yourself._

"Shh…" He brought his index finger up to her lips, quieting her. She was shocked and excited by his boldness. "You have barf on your shirt," he said as he fingered the bottom of her top, making her shiver. "And your shoes," he added, looking down at them.

"You've had a lot to drink." She looked into his eyes and ran her hand gently over his left bicep, squeezing it lightly.

"I'm sorry," he told her as he let out a large breath. "Alice is going to kill me." He hung his head in shame.

_She's going to kill _me_ when she finds me here with you. Maybe you deserve it…_ Her thoughts trailed off as he brought his body closer to hers, his hips pinning her to the counter. Isabella gulped and stared at him, his eyes meeting hers again.

"Despite the vomit, you're fucking beautiful, Bella," Edward whispered in her ear. She gasped as his breath trailed across her skin, making the tiny hairs stand on end. It was only the second time he uttered her name, but she wanted to hear him say it again and again. "I want you...so much…I just can't. And I don't know if I can stop…" he whispered as his lips trailed down her neck, making Isabella's heart beat faster. "Please…" he murmured one last time as his lips completed their track and he looked into her eyes once more.

Isabella licked her lips and shook her head. "Edward. You're drunk." _And married, _she added, as much as it pained her. He let out a defeated sigh and stepped back and tripped over the bath mat, running into the shower door, and practically falling over. "Here," Isabella said, holding her hand out to him. He stared at it, unsure of whether to accept her help. "It's okay." She nodded at him reassuringly.

He took her hand and pushed himself off the glass door, thankful that he hadn't fallen through it. She led him over to his large bed and flipped on the side table lamp, the dim light casting a soft glow over them as he sat down.

Silently, Isabella bent down and unlaced his shoes, pulling them off and setting them to the side so he wouldn't trip on them if he had to make a quick dash to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Rising, she brought her hands up to the collar of his shirt and looked at him before she brushed her finger over a button.

"I can do it," he said, looking up at her before his head lolled to the side.

"I've got it." Slowly, she started to undo the buttons, watching intently as they slid through the fabric. Edward became still the further her hands she went. She unrolled his sleeves and then pulled the shirt off of him, tossing it to the floor. She tried not to stare at the way his gray tank clung to his chest. He was strong; there was no doubt about that. She took in his tattoos that curled over his shoulder and down his left arm before stopping at his elbow. She wanted to examine it closer, but the low light hindered her.

"Do you want to, um…" She motioned down toward his pants. Edward nodded at her and unbuckled his belt. He pulled on it, but it wouldn't budge. Isabella grasped the buckle in her hands and tugged as Edward lifted his hips in order to help her. She avoided his eyes as he popped the button on his jeans and released the zipper before falling back onto the bed. Isabella took that as her hint, and pulled the fabric at the end of his legs, his jeans sliding off with ease as he lifted his hips once more. She took a deep breath as her eyes lingered over his black boxer briefs. His arms were thrown over his head, making his biceps pop. "Edward?" she asked quietly. He didn't respond.

Toeing off her puke-stained shoes, Isabella picked them up by her fingertips and walked back into the bathroom. She glanced at her reflection and gagged at the disarray that was her shirt. Ever so carefully, so as not to wipe the vomit all over her face, she took it off, leaving her in her tan and black zebra bra. She set her shoes and shirt on the counter. _He can deal with them._

She paused at Edward's door to make sure he was sound asleep before entering in her state of undress. Not wanting to be caught by him or his wife, wherever she was, she dashed over to his open closet in search of something to wear home. Flipping on the switch, the overhead light illuminated her selection. She thumbed through a few pair of dress shirts, a black suit that hung in a plastic garment bag, and an array of t-shirts before she paused on a worn, light tan, camouflage uniform. The plastic hangers caught on the wooden rod as she slid them out of the way to get a better look.

"Oh, God," Isabella muttered as she ran her thumb cautiously over the name stitched into the fabric above the left pocket. _Cullen. _Her fingers danced over the buttons before they landed on the right pocket where _U.S. Marines _was sewn. She let out a shaky breath and peeked at Edward snoring softly over her shoulder. Without taking her eyes off his uniform, she grabbed a random t-shirt and tossed it over her head. She flipped the switch and tiptoed out of the room, unable to get Edward or his uniform out of her mind.

Shoeless, she left his apartment, closing the door gently behind her, and called herself a cab, eager to get home and digest what had just happened.

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><p>Alice clicked the lock button on her phone for the umpteenth time that night and watched as the screen glowed, casting a small glimmer of light into the otherwise dark room. She sighed. No missed calls or texts. It was well after midnight and she still hadn't heard from Edward. As much as she wanted to call him, she didn't want to be overbearing. <em>He's with Emmett, he's fine, <em>she told herself in an attempt to calm her nerves.

She'd been sitting at the breakfast bar for the past few hours, staring at the heap of clothes that were still scattered about her living room. She'd managed to do a few loads of the baby's laundry before she folded and put them into a dresser in the nursery. For the life of her, she couldn't find the strength to sort through the rest of the laundry when she spotted one of Jay's old shirts strewn about her own. _I'll deal with it later._ Everything tonight had been, 'I'll do it later.'

"Well, baby," Alice cooed as she rubbed her hand over her stomach. "It's about time we sang, 'Happy Birthday,' don't you think?" She slid off of her stool and opened up a cabinet, pulling out a box of Hostess Cupcakes. "I don't know how old these are, but your daddy loved them." Alice smiled as she opened up a drawer and dug around for a candle.

Finally spotting one, she stuck it into the top of the chocolate cake and pulled one of Edward's lighters off the counter. Flicking it to life, she lit the candle and watched as it glowed, the tip of the wick burning bright orange as the flame rose, getting taller and wider in width.

"Sing it with me, baby." She took a deep breath before beginning. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear daddy, happy birthday to you." She choked on her words as large tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, just as the wax of the flaming candle dripped onto the cake.

Blowing lightly, she extinguished the candle and wiped away her tears before heading to bed.

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><p>Thank you for reading!<p> 


	8. Last Friday Night

Hi. It's been a while (okay, a long while), but here it is. Finally. As always, hugs and kisses to my beta, **busybrie** and my pre-reader, **Dandelion Mind. **They help me make THP what it is. I'm shocked they haven't flounced me because it's taken forever to get this chapter to them. I also have to thank **RandomCran** who graciously rec'd THP on her fic _Exposure. _I cannot thank you enough!

I don't own Twilight. I do own an acceptance letter to grad school!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Last Friday Night<strong>

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Edward cringed and grumbled as he ran his hand roughly over his face, attempting to wipe away the fogginess that had taken over his head.

_Bang. Bang. BANG._

"For the love of God, stop pounding." His voice croaked. He rolled over and moaned, his stomach churning.

"Edward!" _Bang. Bang._ "You'd better open the door right now!" A woman's voice shrieked as she continued to abuse the door, showing it no mercy.

_Alice. _His hand roamed around the top of his comforter in search of his phone. "Where is it?" he mumbled into his pillow, his hand creeping toward the foot of the bed as his body shifted. "Finally," he said when he bumped it with his fingers. Pulling it toward him, he typed out a text with one eye open.

**Use your fucking key.**

Much to his surprise, the consistent banging stopped and his phone chirped back at him a few seconds later.

**I don't have my fucking keys, asshole. Open the damn door.**

He let out a reluctant sigh. _I don't think I can make it that far. _Ever so slowly, mindful of the spinning room, he sat up and stared down at his naked thighs. After his eyes had adjusted, he noticed he was wearing a grey tank and boxer briefs. _What the hell happened last night?_

He glanced at the bedside table, the small light still on, and flipped it off. Rising to his feet, he reached for his cane, confused when it wasn't in its usual spot in the corner. "Shit," he muttered, looking around for it.

Alice's banging resumed minutes later, and Edward huffed out of his bedroom, sans cane, and limped toward the door.

"Stop, Alice, please," he begged, twisting the deadbolt and turning the knob, opening the door.

Alice glared at him fiercely, her hand rested on her hip with her belly protruding outward beneath her black, knit sweater dress. Edward leaned against the door jam and swallowed thickly, intimidated by her harsh stare. "Can I come in?" she asked, her voice bitter. Edward cocked an eyebrow at her and swung his arm outward, inviting her inside.

Throwing her coat over the couch, she walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. She shook it in Edward's direction, silently asking if he wanted a glass. "You look like hell," she commented, pouring two glasses and handing one to him before putting the jug back in the refrigerator.

"I _feel_ like hell," Edward moaned as he made his way back to his bedroom. Alice trailed behind him, her black heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. "Should you even be wearing those shoes right now?" he asked, turning the corner into his room.

"What?" she replied, hopping up on his bed, her feet dangling over the edge.

"Your heels." He pointed, sitting down next to her and chugging his juice.

"Just because I'm six months pregnant doesn't mean I'm going to topple over in my heels. Relax," she sighed, rubbing her stomach.

After finishing his juice, he set the glass down on the bedside table and lay on the bed, his arms flopping above his head. "Why are you all dressed up this early?" He rubbed his temples.

"It's a quarter to noon. It's not early. We're supposed to finish the registry for the baby shower, remember?" Alice crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

"Shit, sorry." He looked up at her as she shrugged. Alice glanced around his room and shook her head at its disarray. Walking over to the tall dresser in the far corner near the closet, she pulled out a fresh pair of socks, boxer briefs, and a t-shirt. She made her way back toward the bed and snagged a pair of jeans that looked relatively clean off the floor.

She tossed the clothes at Edward, and he grunted as they landed in the center of his chest. "Do you think you could you get me some aspirin?" he asked quietly.

"Will that get your ass moving? I'd like to do this at some point today." Alice walked toward the bathroom, her voice trailing behind her.

"Yeah, it will," he shouted and winced, rolling his eyes, knowing full well that the aspirin wasn't going to be a quick fix. He'd need something stronger for that. _Xanax. That'll take the edge off._

"It's on the top left, Al," he instructed after hearing her roam around the bathroom, opening and closing the medicine cabinet doors in search for the bottle.

"Uh, Edward?" she called. "Whom do these belong to?" She walked back into the bedroom with a cream and black blouse and a pair of black heels dangling from her fingers.

"Um…I uh, I don't quite remember everything that happened last night…" he trailed off as he sat up and pulled his tank over his head, running his hand over his chest.

"Are you telling me you fucked some random girl and don't remember what happened?" she implied and tossed the offending top and shoes to the ground. "And why do they smell so much?"

"I didn't fuck anyone. I think I threw up on her, actually." Edward rose off the bed and walked toward the bathroom, scooping up the articles of clothing in his arms and bringing them with him. _She's right, they do smell._

"You threw up on her? God, that's classy," Alice snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "What the hell happened last night?" She followed him as he grabbed a towel from the hall closet and turned on the shower, the steam pouring out the door and spilling in the hall.

She turned her back to him while he removed his boxer briefs and hopped into the shower. Edward recalled the previous night, as much as he could remember of it, as Alice listened from the open door. She shook her head angrily when he couldn't remember how he got to his car, holding her lip on chastising him for drinking so much while on medication. She continued to listen as he told her that the last thing he remembered was walking out of the bar with his arm around Bella, followed by, how he somehow made it home where he threw up all over her.

"Please tell me that you at least asked her name before you vomited."

"Bella," he said. His lips perked up in a small smile, just thinking about her, as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Bella, huh?" Alice pursed her lips.

"Yeah, that's her name; the girl who works at the café." Edward made his way back to the bedroom and slipped on his boxer briefs beneath his towel before running it over his hair and tossing it to the side.

"So, let me get this right." Alice sighed, running her hand through her hair. "Barf girl is café girl? You threw up on the girl you've been pining over for weeks?"

"I haven't been pining over her." Edward side eyed her as he stepped into his jeans and buckled his belt.

"That's a lie and you know it." She laughed.

Edward walked back into the bathroom, pulled his toothbrush out of the holder and wetted it, and squeezing on a layer of toothpaste. Alice picked up the shirt and heels and placed them on the counter, examining them.

"I don't think you'll be able to get these clean," she said as he rinsed his mouth.

"Not even if I send them to the cleaners?" he asked before taking a swig of mouthwash and gargling.

"I doubt it." She shook her head. "They've been sitting in your vomit all night. You should buy her a new shirt." She glanced down at the heels. "Shoes too, while you're at it, because I wouldn't wear these again if I were her."

Edward shrugged and picked up the offending articles of clothing, tossing them into a plastic bag before heading out of the bathroom. Throwing his shirt over his head with a grunt, he limped into the living room and searched around for his cane. _If we're going anywhere, I need my cane. I won't be caught dead in one of those motorized scooters, _Edward thought as he circled the couch.

"It's right here," Alice said, squatting down alongside the couch and picking it up off the floor, handing it to him.

"Thanks," he mumbled and pulled on his jacket. "Are you ready to do this?"

Alice nodded. "Are you sure you want to go?" She zipped her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck.

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I love looking for baby things," he said with a smirk.

"Right, come on, let's get out of here," Alice giggled and opened up the door as Edward followed her out.

* * *

><p>"Where'd you get that shirt from?" Melissa nodded her head toward Isabella's chest. They were sitting on her couch, sipping their coffees and munching on a box of pastries from their favorite bakery.<p>

Isabella took a bite of her bear claw, stalling. Melissa eyed her, knowing exactly what she was doing. Isabella took a drink of her coffee in order to clear her throat. "I took it out of Edward's closet," she mumbled quietly, hiding behind the lip of her mug.

"Excuse me?" Melissa's eyes went wide. "Did you say what I think you just said?"

Isabella nodded, not sure what to say in response. She looked down at the sugary goodness that was her bear claw and pulled off a piece, popping it into her mouth.

"Don't stuff your face with pastries, you need to explain why you're wearing this guy's shirt and why you seem to be missing those heels you wore last night." Melissa raised her eyebrow at her and snatched the bear claw out of her hand.

"Hey, I was eating that!" Isabella shouted, reaching for it, only to have Melissa hold it out of her grasp. "I hate you," she scowled.

"No you don't. Now, explain yourself." Melissa set her cream puff down on the coffee table and cupped her hands around her mug, pulling her knees up to her chest, making herself comfortable.

Isabella recounted her story and watched as Melissa waited on bated breath for her to explain every single detail of the night.

"He really pinned you to the counter?" Melissa asked as she refilled their coffee cups.

"Yeah, he did. He was very vocal –"

"And handsy," Melissa added with a wink.

Isabella shook her head. "Yeah, which isn't like him at all." She took her mug back and sipped her coffee. It was just what she needed after last night.

"So, he threw up all over you, and you just left your clothes there for him to deal with?" Melissa was surprised that her best friend would go and do something like that.

Isabella shrugged. "I figured the least he can do is get my shirt dry-cleaned and clean up my shoes."

"Maybe he'll return them to you personally." Melissa winked at her.

"One can only hope," Isabella muttered under her breath and grabbed her bear claw, taking a huge bite, growling, making Melissa laugh loudly.

"I don't know how you can eat those things. They're pure sugar." Melissa shook her head, wiping her hands on her thighs before standing up.

"Says the woman who just devoured a cream puff," Isabella giggled in response before she rose from her seat and headed into the kitchen to put her coffee mug in the dishwasher.

"So, what happened when you walked into his apartment? Did his wife give you shit?" Melissa asked, placing her cup in the dishwasher after Isabella.

Isabella sighed. "No, I didn't see her. I don't really know who his wife is, or if he even has one at this point." She leaned back against the counter across from Melissa, who rested alongside the refrigerator.

"I thought we established that the pregnant woman is his wife." Melissa played with the poetry magnets that clung to the face of the refrigerator.

"I don't really know. Her name is Alice, by the way." Isabella watched her friend create a dirty poem with the words.

"His wife?"

"No? Yes? I don't know. The pregnant woman's name is Alice."

"This is so confusing."

"You think?"

"Maybe they're related?" Melissa suggested, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why they were always together.

"They can't be…." Isabella thought back to all the times she'd seen them at the café. "No, it's impossible, I've seen them together. There's no way she's his sister."

"You could ask, you know." Melissa shrugged before giggling at her own poem.

"Yeah, I could do that." Isabella walked over toward her.

"But you won't," Melissa said, eyeing her.

"Really, Mel? 'I'd like to rub your cucumber?' What is this?" Isabella snickered at her.

"What? That's good shit right there!"

"It doesn't even rhyme. You're something else, you know that?" Isabella shook her head before wandering back to her bedroom to get ready for her shift.

"You love me, admit it!" Melissa shouted with a smile on her face.

* * *

><p>"How about this one?" Edward asked, pointing to a cream colored seat that was set up on display at Target. The store was crowded, as usual, but Edward was doing his best to remain calm and not panic. He owed it to Alice.<p>

She heard him, but instead of answering she turned around to look at the different brands of bottle sanitizers that were located behind her.

Edward felt her mood shift as soon as they set foot in the baby section. "Hey," he whispered and walked toward her, running his hand down her arm and grasped her hand in his. "Look at this, I think you'll really like it." Edward gently pulled her back over to the bouncy seats.

He watched as Alice ran her free hand over the soft fleece that covered the seat. "There are three different settings and it comes with a few toys that dangle and stuff…" Edward trailed off, not sure how to best describe the seat for her. _What do you even look for when it comes to buying a bouncy seat?_

"It's nice," Alice said half-heartedly before zapping the sticker with the gun the store associate gave her, adding it to her baby registry. She hitched her purse higher up on her shoulder and walked to the infant clothing section.

"I thought you wanted to look at car seats next?" Edward called over the clothing rack, watching as her fingers trailed over the shelves. She paused over a light pink outfit that had text scrawled across the front that he couldn't make out.

Alice shook her head as a small sob escaped her lips. Edward made his way over to her as fast as he could, squeezing between two women chatting in the aisle as their babies cooed back and forth at each other. Once he reached her, he immediately wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her into a hug.

Pulling back from her, he kissed her forward before wiping away her tears. "What is it?" he whispered, his thumbs wiping under her eyes. Alice's gaze shifted down toward a delicate pink onesie on the shelf and ran her fingers over the front.

"_My Daddy Loves Me,"_ she read aloud and sniffled.

Edward picked up the shirt and examined it. He gave Alice a small smile before draping it over her belly, as if he was trying it on the baby. "I think it looks great. Although, if the baby is a boy, he might not like the pink."

Alice snorted, looking down at her stomach and watched as Edward's hands held the onesie securely to her belly. She covered one of his hands with hers and gave it a small squeeze.

"It's true, you know," Edward told her, his eyes not leaving hers.

"What's that?" Her voice was quiet.

"_My daddy loves me._ He does Al; he may not be here, but he loves this baby." Edward did his best not to choke on his words. "And you know what?" he said, regarding her closely. "I love the baby, too."

Alice nodded her head as more tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>"Oh, thank God, you're here!" Ben sighed in relief as Melissa and Isabella strolled into the café a few hours later. They were working their last full shifts before classes started up again, and Isabella's students came back from winter break. "It's been so busy," he remarked, untying the strings of his apron before pulling it off.<p>

"Ben, there are like, five customers here," Melissa argued, looking around the café before they walked into the break room.

"Whatever," he replied rolling his eyes. "You missed the rush. It should be a quiet night."

"Good," Isabella sighed, opening her locker and pulling out her apron. "We could use a stress-free night."

"Maybe dear 'ole Edwin will show his face…" Melissa winked at Isabella.

"Who?" Ben asked as he zipped his jacket.

"No one. Ignore her," Isabella snapped quickly, shutting Melissa up before she even started.

"All right…I'm going to go, then. Have a good night." Ben smiled and waved as he walked out of the door after the girls said 'goodnight.'

The remainder of the evening was relatively uneventful. Isabella and Melissa chatted behind the counter and filled orders as the 'after dinner crowd' filed in around seven p.m.

After the last few customers left the café around ten, Melissa pulled the mop and bucket from the supply closet as Isabella cleaned the tabletops and flipped over the chairs, placing them atop the tables.

"I'm surprised he didn't show up today," Melissa commented, swiping the mop across the floor.

"Edward?" Isabella looked at Melissa over her shoulder.

"Uh-huh. I figured he'd come in here, groveling at your feet, begging for forgiveness."

"He's probably still hung over. He was really drunk last night."

"That, or he's dead."

"What?" Isabella said loudly as she re-stocked the to-go cups behind the counter.

"His wife probably saw your shirt and heels in his bathroom and then she killed him." Melissa laughed, putting the cleaning supplies away before helping Isabella behind the counter. "You're next. I'd watch your back if I were you."

"Shut up," Isabella said with a smile and shoved her best friend. "He'll show up eventually, I'm sure."

"Well, if I'm here, I'll make sure to tell you when he decides to show that scruffy face." Melissa walked into the break room and took off of her apron as Isabella followed behind her.

"He has good scruff," Isabella said with a small smile, earning a snicker from Melissa. She had contemplated telling her about the military uniform she found in his closet last night, but like other aspects of his life, she wasn't exactly sure what was going on with that either. _He sure has a lot of explaining to do,_ she thought as they walked out the back door, locking the café up for the night.

* * *

><p>"She thinks you're my wife, you know," Edward said as he closed his apartment door, holding a box of pizza in his hand. The other gripped onto his cane, his leg in pain from all the walking they did today.<p>

"Huh?" Alice asked, grabbing a few napkins from the breakfast bar to bring them with her to the couch where Edward was opening the top of the pizza box. The steam rose into the air, the mouthwatering smell of cheese, meat, and sauce wafting up into her nose.

"I remember Bella was really concerned about my wife being home when we walked in the door." Edward picked up the four small corner pieces of the pizza and shared half with Alice, knowing that they were her favorite.

"You told her I wasn't, right?" She eyed him, taking a bite of her pizza.

"I don't remember." He shrugged and popped a corner piece into his mouth.

"You need to tell her. If you really like this girl, she needs to know."

"Whoa, whoa. Who says I like her?" Edward said quickly, choking on his pizza.

"Well, I think it'd be nice if you found someone new. You need to move –"

"Stop," he said harshly.

"Sorry. If you don't want that, at least be honest with her and tell her we aren't married. Tell her you're divorced for all I care. "

"It's not official yet, and you know it."

"It might as well be." Alice shrugged, taking a sip of her juice.

"Alice, I don't know…" He looked at her sadly.

"She seems really nice, and she's cute. The least you could do is apologize for ruining her stuff. You owe her that much."

"I guess you're right." Edward ran his fingers over his head and sighed. "Tomorrow. I'll do it then." He draped his arm over the couch and Alice slid over and snuggled up next to him.

"I'll go with you," Alice said quietly as Edward turned on Netflix, finding an episode of '30 Rock' to watch.

"I think I'll be all right, Al. But thanks." He kissed the top of her head, smiling at her sheer generosity. Her kindness always astounded him. She could have the worst day, yet she'd still be the only one to ask if he was all right at the end of the night.

* * *

><p>Late the next afternoon, after dropping Alice off at her apartment so she could head to work for a few hours, Edward made his way over to the café. He sat in his car for over half an hour, contemplating what to say to Bella when he walked in. "Just man up and do it," he said aloud, trying to give himself a little pep talk.<p>

Pulling his beanie over his ears, he opened the door and exited the car, grabbing his cane on the way out. Sidestepping the ice that covered the majority of the sidewalk, he crossed the street, his eyes downcast. He knew that if he met her gaze before walking into the café, he would never get up the nerve to actually open the door and speak with her.

Taking a deep breath, his hand shakily reached for the cool, wooden handle and gave it a tug. The chime of the bell above the door made his shoulders hunch, not expecting the sudden noise. The café was bustling with customers, many of them having just left their classes at Northwestern just up the road, or off from a busy day at work.

Glancing toward the front counter, Bella was nowhere to be seen. The bell chimed behind him again, and he moved out of the way so as to not get trampled by a pack of mothers in dire need of their afternoon caffeine fix.

He took a seat at a table in the corner with a sigh and kept a close eye on the front counter hoping she would walk in. An unfamiliar guy stood behind the register, taking customer's orders. Edward scowled as he took in his red and blue plaid shirt and the black-rimmed glasses he wore. _Fucking hipsters._

As the customers filed in and out of the café, he still hadn't spotted her. Taking one last glance at the counter in hopes she had come in, he caught a glimpse of long, flowing blonde hair. _If Bella's friend is here, she has to be around here somewhere,_ he devised before rising from his seat and making his way toward her.

The café was too crowded for his liking, but he knew he had to deal with it in order to speak with Bella. By the time he reached the counter, Bella's friend had retreated through the back door into what he could only assume was the break room.

"Hey, what can I get for you?" the hipster asked Edward when he finally made his way to the counter.

"Uh, I'm looking for someone," he murmured, looking past him and into the back room.

"Who?" He pushed his fake glasses up the bridge of his nose, causing Edward to snort.

"I don't know her name." He shrugged. "She has blonde hair."

"Mel!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Someone is here to see you."

"Thanks." He nodded at the hipster in response before he slid over to the end of the counter to wait for her.

* * *

><p>Melissa had just pulled a batch of banana nut muffins out of the oven when she heard Ben call her name from the front of the café. "Now what does he want?" she asked, shaking off her oven mitts before walking out of the kitchen.<p>

Stepping out from the break room, she couldn't believe who was standing in front of her on the other side of the counter. Edward had his head down, like usual, and appeared to be incredibly interested in the checkered laminate floor than what was going on around him. His white, V-neck t-shirt was partially hidden by his navy zip-up hoodie. His jacket was slung over his left arm as his right braced himself on the ledge of the counter. _Too bad Bee isn't here to see this,_ she thought before stepping toward him.

"Edward?" she called, raising her voice so he would hear her over the rumble of the patrons.

He looked up upon hearing his name. "Uh, hey." His gaze shifted to the counter when he couldn't keep up with her eye contact.

"Hi." She gave him a small smile. "Can I help you with something?" She came around from behind the counter and led him over to a small table to their right.

Edward sat down and ran his hand over the back of his neck anxiously. "I um, I'm looking for…Bella," he whispered, running his thumbnail over the grains of the wooden table.

"Bella?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, Bella. Your friend, the one who works here?"

"You mean Bee, right? Or Isabella?" she asked, confused.

"I guess…I don't know." He finally looked at her as she spoke again.

"Bee doesn't usually go by 'Bella.' I'm not sure why. When we met, she said her name was Isabella and I just started calling her Bee."

"Oh," Edward said, defeated. "Is she here? I need to talk to her."

Melissa gave him a smile, impressed that he was here to speak with her best friend. "No, she's not. Winter break just ended for her, so she won't be in as often as she has been lately."

"Do you know when Bella, uh Bee, or Isabella…whatever you want to call her, will be here next? It's really important that I talk to her."

"She'll be in on Thursday, probably late afternoon. You should come back then."

"Thursday?" Edward repeated, mentally making note of it.

"Yeah. She'll be here." Melissa said with a grin and stood from her seat.

Edward followed suit and nodded at her. "Thanks a lot," he said quietly. "I guess I'll see you then."

"I'm Melissa, by the way." She reached her hand out to him.

"Edward. It's nice to meet you." He gave her hand a firm shake before pulling his jacket on and walking out of the café.

* * *

><p>Three days later, Edward found himself back at the café sitting at a small table in his favorite corner. He'd brought along his tattered copy of <em>The Grapes of Wrath,<em> as well as a black notebook Alice bought him so he could 'express himself.' _Insane pregnant thoughts._ He shook his head and glanced down at his phone. Clicking the lock button, he saw that it was only one-thirty in the afternoon. Melissa told him Bella would be there around 'late afternoon' but who knew what that actually meant.

After an hour of sitting and no Bella in sight, he ordered something to drink, praying she'd arrive soon. As the café was beginning to fill up with customers, his anxiety grew. He pulled up the sleeves of his is grey thermal sweater in an attempt to cool himself down, thinking that it may control his anxiety. With shaky fingers, he clicked the lock button on his phone for the umpteenth time. Unable to take it anymore, picked it up and dialed Alice's number.

"Hello?" Alice answered.

"Hey, she's not here yet." Edward twirled his coffee mug in his hand and glanced back up at the counter.

"Calm down. She'll be there soon." She could sense the apprehension in his voice. "Melissa probably meant she'd be there later, most likely around four. I don't think she'd lie to you." She listened as Edward took a few deep breaths. "Do you want me to come and wait with you?"

"No, I'll be fine. I just…sorry, I needed you to calm me down." He ran his fingers through his hair and took another deep breath.

"Don't apologize, Edward. Call me if you need me."

"I love you, Al. Thanks," he whispered.

"I love you too. I'll talk to you soon." She hung up and Edward locked his phone, doing his best not to look back up at the counter for Bella.

Edward lost himself in his novel, ignoring the bustling café around him. A while later, he heard someone near him clear their throat, but he didn't bother to acknowledge them. A new glass mug was placed in front of him with a loud thud, causing him to look up and into the eyes of Bella, who was standing a few inches from the table.

He quickly peaked at what she placed in front of him, noticing that it was a piping hot mug of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a swirl of chocolate syrup. _She remembered,_ he thought, not believing it.

"You order such girly drinks, Edward," she said with a smile.

"I like hot chocolate, what can I say?" He shrugged his shoulders as she sat down across from him. He stared at her, not quite sure what to say.

"So…" Isabella said, trying to fill the awkward silence that had formed between them.

"Thank you…for the hot chocolate," Edward started, still unable to look into her eyes. "I should probably thank you for helping me a few nights ago, too." He took a sip of his drink and risked a glance at her. Her gaze on him made him nervous, causing him to look back down at the tabletop.

"Hey," she said, dipping her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. He slowly stared at her from under his lashes. "You're welcome." Edward licked his lips and sat up a little straighter. She took a deep breath in preparation for what she was about to say. "You don't seem like the type of person who needs or asks for help very often. But last night, you did."

"You're right, I don't." His eyebrows drew together, deep in thought. _What did I do to deserve to get a woman like her to talk to me?_

Isabella looked over her shoulder toward the counter and saw Melissa watching her and Edward intently with a grin on her face. Isabella shook her head at her and turned back to Edward, who, for once, had his eyes locked on her.

"Listen, I need to apologize for my behavior the other night…I shouldn't have – "

"You don't need to apologize, Edward," she interrupted him.

"No, Bella." He shook his head and noticed how she gasped when he said her name. "Do you not like that name?"

"No, it's just that no one really calls me that anymore."

"I like that name," he admitted quietly, avoiding her eyes. She smiled widely at him, even though he couldn't see it.

"If I acted too forward, I'm really sorry. I don't remember much of what happened last night."

"You don't remember?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, I do remember throwing up all over you. That wasn't my finest moment, trust me."

Isabella let out a small giggle. "No, it really wasn't."

Edward's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he shook his head, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry about that."

"It's fine." She shrugged. "Do you have my clothes?"

"I have to apologize to you again. I can't get them cleaned. They're just far too…well, they're ruined. I feel horrible. I hope you weren't too attached to them."

"Oh, well, it's all right I guess. I did like that shirt, though."

"Shit, I'm such an asshole."

"It's okay, Edward. Relax." She ran her fingers through her hair, looking at him.

"Let me make it up to you, please." He was shocked those words had come out of his mouth.

"Make it up to me? How?" Isabella's face was full of surprise as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, I don't know…would you maybe, um…how about dinner?" he stumbled over his words, fearful of what she would say in response.

"Dinner sounds…good." Her voice rose at the end, unsure of herself.

"Good?" He smirked at her shyness.

"Yeah, good, but on one condition."

"And that would be?" He watched, fascinated as she pulled out a tube of lip balm and applied it to her lips, smacking them quietly together before answering him.

"Tell me the truth," she paused, eyeing him. "Are you married? Because if you are, we're not getting dinner. I'm not that kind of girl."

Edward took a deep breath and thought his words through. He watched as Isabella fidgeted, waiting for his response. "No, I'm not married."

"And the pregnant woman, Alice, you guys aren't…"

Edward shook his head, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "She's my best friend."

"Okay." Isabella nodded her head and let out a sigh of relief. "And the…?" she motioned to the faint tan line on his ring finger.

"Divorced," he muttered, his eyes downcast once again.

"Right." She reached her hand across the table and touched his, making him flinch and finally meet her eyes. "Dinner it is, Edward."

The right side of his mouth lifted up into a smirk as he bashfully ducked his head and licked his lips. "Dinner sounds great."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading.<p> 


	9. Dinner Last Night

Hello. I'm back. THP is back. I'm sorry I've kept you waiting. If you've flounced because it's been a million years since I updated, well, sorry. Between moving across the country and starting graduate school AND teaching two undergraduate classes, my free time is very limited. That being said, thanks for coming back. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

I have to thank my wonderful beta **busybrie** for everything she does. She's the sweetest. I also need to thank **Dandelion Mind** for all the fantastic pre-reading she does. I couldn't do this without the support of you lovely ladies. XOXO

Any remaining errors are mine.

I don't own Twilight and what not. On with the show.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Dinner Last Night<strong>

"Miss Swan?" a small voice asked from the open doorway of her classroom.

"Ethan, hi. What are you doing here so early?" Isabella spoke to him over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the dry erase board, where she was writing down the day's schedule.

"Mommy dropped me off." He timidly stepped into the room, unsure of himself. "She had something to do. She said someone here could watch me," he said quietly.

Isabella put down her marker and walked over to him, squatting down so she met his eye level. "Buddy, school doesn't start for another hour." With it being her first full year teaching, she wasn't sure what the school's protocol was on students randomly showing up this early.

"I'm hungry, Miss Swan. I didn't get breakfast."

"Okay. Why don't you sit in your seat and I'll go and find you something to eat." She led him over to his chair and set him up with some crayons and a piece of paper before walking out of the room to seek advice.

Principal Cullen glided briskly down the hallway with her head held high, exuding confidence. Her warm, honey hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, her wispy bangs dancing across her forehead. Her snug, black pencil skirt and cap-sleeved cream blouse made Isabella feel underdressed in her simple gray dress pants and black sweater. To say that Esme Cullen intimidated her would be an understatement.

"Good morning, Isabella. How are you?" Esme asked quickly as their paths crossed.

"Actually, Principal Cullen, I need your help." Isabella hoped she had heard her.

"With what, dear? Is everything all right? You seem a little flustered." She shuffled the stack of papers she was holding under her arm, securing them.

"Oh, if you're busy, I just…" Isabella stuttered, not wanting to interrupt her morning.

"Don't be silly! What is it? I'm here to help," she said with a smile, her impeccably straight teeth gleaming.

"Well, it's just one of my students, Ethan Hall, showed up early. He said his mom just dropped him off and he hasn't eaten. I wasn't sure what to do." She looked at Esme, her eyes pleading for advice of any sort.

Esme nodded her head in understanding. "Yes, this has happened with him before. Just run to the cafeteria, get him something to eat, and keep an eye on him until class starts. I'll call his mother today and explain our before-school program. She can't just drop him off whenever she pleases."

Isabella breathed a sigh of relief as Esme smiled at her. "Thank you, Principal Cullen." She began to walk away, only to be stopped by Esme's hand on her arm.

"Please, dear, call me Esme. Only the students call me Principal Cullen," she said with a laugh.

Isabella nodded, thanking her again, before heading off to the cafeteria.

The rest of the day passed by smoothly. Her students enjoyed the dinosaur unit that they started and Isabella began reading them _Where the Wild Things Are_ by Maurice Sendak. While it wasn't exactly about dinosaurs, it was one of her favorite books growing up, and she knew they would love it.

* * *

><p>When she arrived home later that afternoon, Melissa met her at her apartment and they ventured out to Lupita's, their favorite Mexican restaurant, for dinner.<p>

"So, how was class today?" Isabella asked, dunking her chip into the bowl of salsa and popping it into her mouth.

"Dreadful." Melissa huffed dramatically. "Dr. Fieldstein handed out the assignments for the semester. It's going to be a rough one. We may need more of these," she said, raising her margarita glass, clinking it against Isabella's.

"I'm so glad I decided not to take that lecture," she snickered at Melissa.

"Shut up. You think Hendrickson's lecture is going to be any easier? I heard that guy's a pretentious ass."

"I need his class to graduate." She shrugged. Meanwhile, their dishes were delivered to the table, sizzling hot. "I don't have much of a choice."

"Oh my God, these fajitas look delicious!" Melissa moaned loudly, grabbing a warm tortilla from the plastic holder. She piled on steak, peppers, cheese, and pico de gallo before taking a big bite.

"We need more guacamole," Isabella commented as she began to construct her fajita.

"You can always use more guacamole in life," Melissa agreed.

"I think Aristotle said that." Isabella smiled.

"You're such a dork." She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Once their table was home to another bowl of guacamole and their margarita glasses had been topped off, Melissa cleared her throat, catching Isabella's attention.

"So, Edward came into the café today," she mentioned nonchalantly.

"He did?" Isabella's eyebrow rose in question.

"Yeah. Looking for you, obviously." She smirked.

"Well, what did he say? Or are you going to make me guess?"

Melissa took another bite of her fajita. "He asked me if you were there, and I said no, you'd only be in on Friday this week. I think he just wanted to figure out when you were going to dinner."

"Oh. And he said?"

"If you'd stop asking questions, I'd get there!" Melissa snapped jokingly, causing Isabella to throw a chip at her.

"He really didn't say much, so I gave him your number…" she trailed off quietly.

"You what?" Isabella's eyes went wide.

"I gave him your number." She shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal.

"You're joking."

Melissa shook her head. "I wasn't going to make him wait until Friday to talk to you. That's four days away. He can't make plans for dinner if he won't see you for days." Melissa thought she was being completely logical.

"I guess. I just wish you would've asked me."

"He probably won't even call, so I wouldn't worry about it, Bee."

Isabella's stomach churned nervously at the thought of him calling her.

"You're over-thinking it. Relax," Melissa reassured her as the waiter packed up their leftovers and placed the check on the table.

"I'm trying not to." She discreetly peeked at her phone in her purse as they paid and walked out of the restaurant.

"I saw that."

"Hush, you!"

Melissa giggled as they made their way back to Isabella's apartment to watch re-runs of _How I Met Your Mother _and veg out on the couch, their favorite pastime.

* * *

><p>Edward rapped his knuckles on Alice's door and waited patiently for her to answer. She'd called him from work earlier in the afternoon and asked if he wanted to come over for dinner and help her figure out the rocking ottoman she was having so much trouble with the other day, as well as the other large pieces of furniture for the baby's room. After the day she had at Target, when she broke down while looking at baby clothes, he hoped tonight would go well.<p>

A few minutes later, he heard the deadbolt click and the door creak open. Alice stood in front of him wearing a black and white polka dot apron, her hair piled high atop her head with a spatula in her hand.

"Hi," she said, opening the door a little wider so he could step through.

"It smells good in here," he commented, kissing her on the cheek before tossing his jacket on the couch. He took note of the fact that she had cleaned up some more since that last time he was there.

"Thanks. I made spaghetti and meatballs." Alice walked back into the kitchen and handed Edward a variety of vegetables to chop for the salad.

"My mom's spaghetti and meatballs?" he asked as he began chopping.

"Esme does make the best, so yes, it's her recipe."

"Good. I haven't seen her in a while," he commented quietly, thinking about his parents.

"I don't know why. They only live in Naperville." She said as she pulled two plates from the cabinet and set them down on her small dinette set.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I could make more of an effort."

"You're right, you could. But let's not talk about this right now. The baby and I are starving, so let's eat." Alice rubbed her stomach as she sat down, watching as Edward carried the pasta dish and the salad to the table, serving her first.

They ate a relatively quiet dinner, just talking about the happenings of the day.

"So, Melissa gave you Isabella's phone number. Are you going to actually use it?" Alice asked, carrying their finished dishes over to the dishwasher, loading it.

"I don't know." Edward shrugged.

"Why the hell not? You asked the girl out, for crying out loud. How are you supposed to set up your date if you never talk to her?"

"Why do you think I go into the café every day hoping she'll be there?"

Alice shook her head at his reasoning. _He's afraid of her and he doesn't want to admit it._ She headed into the baby's nursery and plopped herself down in the rocking chair. Edward followed her, his iPhone in hand as he stared at the screen.

"What'cha doin' over there?" she asked as Edward continued to fiddle with his phone.

"Nothing," he replied, his thumbs moving over the screen.

"Are you going to call her?"

"No." He set the phone down on the dresser and walked to the opposite side of the room, pulling a large cardboard box away from the wall.

"So, did you text her?" Alice slowly rose from the chair and helped Edward pull open the top of the box.

"Yeah," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

"Well, what did you say?" She rolled her eyes at his evasiveness.

"I just asked if she was free on Saturday for dinner. That's about it, Al." He shrugged and walked out of the room, only to return a few minutes later with a toolbox in hand.

"I don't think you'll need all those tools." She eyed them cautiously as he pulled out the white wooden legs of the changing table.

"Are you doubting me? I'm willing to bet that –" The chirp of an incoming text message made him jump, his eyes shifting immediately over to the table.

"Oh, oh, oh! Is it her?" Alice bounced excitedly.

"Would you calm down? I don't want that baby falling out." Edward smirked, picking up his phone.

**Dinner Saturday sounds great. Pick me up around 7:30pm?**

"Well?"

"She said yes." His smile lit up his eyes as he glanced over at her.

"Well, of course she did. You'll have a great time."

"Hopefully." Edward shrugged. "Where should I take her?" He laid the legs of the changing table out on the floor, beginning to piece them together.

"How about the Davis Street Fishmarket? I've heard it's pretty good."

Edward nodded at her, his concentration focused on screwing in a crossbar for the legs of the changing table. "I've heard the same. I'll have to ask her if that's somewhere she wants to go. Maybe she doesn't like seafood?"

"Ask now." Alice rose from the chair, grabbing his phone off the dresser. She opened up his text messages and typed one out to Bella.

"Hey, give me that!" Edward laughed, reaching up for it.

"Too late. I already sent it." She giggled, clutching her stomach from laughing so hard.

"Al, come on! What did you say?" he whined.

"Don't worry, I didn't tell her about how you're infatuated with her."

"I'm not –"

She covered his mouth, stopping him immediately. "I simply asked her if she wanted to go there." She flipped his phone over, showing him the message screen.

_Would you be interested in going to Davis Street Fishmarket? I heard it's pretty good. _Edward read, his lips murmuring the words aloud.

"See, I wouldn't do anything to embarrass you."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. _There are many things you've done to embarrass me, Al, _he thought to himself.

"Now, let's get this thing built so I don't have to change the baby on the floor." Alice clapped her hands at him as he set his phone aside.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He started bolting together a second crossbar.

"For starters, you're doing it wrong." Alice cocked her eyebrow at him.

"Uh, I don't think so." He snorted.

Alice tossed the booklet of directions at him. "Page three. That side of the bar faces the floor."

Edward eyed her, and then scanned the instructions quickly, shaking his head in defeat when he realized that the part was, indeed, placed wrong.

"I hate it when you're right." Edward frowned and flipped the part over, successfully fastening the bolts as Alice giggled in delight.

* * *

><p>After agreeing to join him for dinner, Isabella's week dragged tortuously slow. She was so anxious Saturday night that her eyes snapped instantly to the door when a timid knock echoed off the living room walls. She glanced at the digital clock above the stove. <em>7:30pm. He's on time. <em>Taking a deep breath, she rose from her stool and smoothed out her floral skirt.

To say that she was nervous would be a drastic understatement. She had no idea what to expect in terms of tonight. _Is this a date? A casual meeting between two people who know absolutely nothing about each other?_ The possibilities were endless. When she received his text a few days ago, asking if she wanted to get dinner, she'd debated whether or not she should even respond. Sure, he'd ruined her shirt and her shoes, but did that really warrant his need to take her out to dinner? She'd barely spoken to the guy. How was she supposed to carry on a conversation with him for an entire evening?

Tried of her internal rambling, she peeked at him through the peep-hole, only to find that his head was down, like usual. She couldn't make much of what he was wearing, given the awkward angle, so she unlocked the door and said a silent prayer before opening it.

The door creaked open loudly, causing his head to whip up quickly. His eyes met hers, and she gasped. They were much lighter and clearer than she remembered seeing. The dark circles that were usually present under his eyes were not as pronounced, but still there.

She watched as he took a deep breath, his eyes shifting in every direction but hers. _Please, don't let this be a disaster. _

Edward licked his lips and finally looked Isabella in the eyes again. "Hi," he said, his voice cracking.

"Hey," Isabella responded, with a small smile.

"Um, these are for you." He held up a bouquet of purple hyacinths that were hidden behind his back.

"Edward, you didn't have to –"

"No, I did. I feel horrible for ruining your stuff. It shouldn't have happened."

"They're beautiful." She took them from him and walked into her apartment. She turned around when she didn't feel his presence behind her and saw him still standing in the doorway, as if he was held up on the threshold. "Come in, please." She nodded at him with reassurance.

He followed her toward the kitchen, pausing at the breakfast bar, not wanting to invade her space. He watched her move around the kitchen, pulling a vase down from a high cabinet and filling it with water. He cleared his throat nervously. "You look really nice."

Her ears perked up when she heard his compliment, causing the water in the vase to overflow. "Shit," she muttered, shutting off the faucet.

"Sorry." He ran his hand over his head, rubbing it roughly. "I'm being awkward."

Isabella set the flowers in the vase and walked around the counter to face Edward. "Relax," she said, placing her hand gently on his forearm, making him twitch. She pulled her hand back instinctively. "You're not being awkward at all."

He guffawed at her, shaking his head. "I haven't done this in a while."

"Me neither," she replied quietly. "You look really good too, by the way. Plaid looks great on you." She smirked at him, enjoying the way the sleeves of his dark blue and red button down were rolled up his forearms, showing off a lick of black ink, which she was dying to get a closer glimpse at.

"Your place is nice." Edward scanned his eyes over the living room and down the small hallway that led to the bathroom and bedroom.

"Thanks. I moved in a few months ago, so it's a vast improvement from what it used to look like." Isabella threw on her jacket, buttoning it up. "You ready to go?"

"Oh, you're not originally from Illinois?" he asked as he nodded his head and followed her out the door, watching as she locked it behind her.

"No. I'm from Seattle."

"Oh, cool. I've never been there, but I've always wanted to go."

_You're not missing much._ Isabella sighed.

"Are you all right, Bella?"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine." She followed Edward down the stairs and out the door toward his car that was parked at the curb. "Thank you," she said quietly as he opened the door for her.

"So, are you from around here?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Uh, yeah. Well…not really," he muttered, unsure of himself.

"You're not sure which?" Isabella giggled.

"Yeah. So, um, have you ever been to this place?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

"No, I haven't yet. Between work and school, it's hard for me to get out much."

"Yeah, I haven't seen you at the café for a while."

She glanced over at him and smiled. His eyes stayed on the road, his left hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. "Mel told me that you still come in a lot."

"I like coffee." He shrugged.

"You don't order coffee." Isabella smiled when he peeked over at her and smirked.

"Never did like it much." He turned the heat down in the car after tugging on the collar of his jacket.

"What do you do for a living?" she asked, tired of being the one doing all the talking. _I hope he carries the conversation during dinner._

"I'm between jobs right now," he answered after a long pause, and he cleared his throat.

"Oh. Well, what have you done in the past, then?" _Marines. Just say it._

Edward suddenly braked at the red light, causing them to jerk forward and then back in their seats. "Sorry, I just…" He looked over at her, his eyes dark. "I've done a lot of things," he answered vaguely as he turned right and drove past the restaurant so he could parallel park a few blocks down. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't want to pay those assholes to park my car when I can do it myself." He pulled forward and spun the wheel, parking with ease. "I'd probably do a better job than they would, anyway," he added bitterly.

"It's fine," Isabella said with a heavy sigh before she opened her door.

Edward walked over to her side as quickly as he could and met her just as the door was closing. "I was going to get that." His voice was soft, as if he had done something wrong.

"Oh. Sorry, I just figured…"

"I'm being a royal douche right now." He shook his head, ashamed. "I don't even know why I bothered. This just seems like a bad –"

"Hey, look at me." She lightly placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly before meeting her eyes. "It's okay. How about we start over?"

"Has tonight been that much of a disaster?"

"No, not at all. I just want you to relax. You're always so tense."

"I'm trying not to be, but it's hard."

"Stop apologizing. You're fine." She gave him a small smile before running her hand down his arm, clutching his hand. She felt him stiffen in fear before relaxing slightly. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She giggled softly when Edward squeezed her hand in agreement before they made their way toward the restaurant, hand in hand.

* * *

><p>A quartet of trumpets played vibrantly over the speakers as they approached the door. Despite the chill of the night, couples waited outside for their names to be called, signaling to them that their tables were ready.<p>

"I made a reservation, so we shouldn't have to wait too long," Edward said into Isabella's ear. He stood closer to her, their hands still clasped together between them.

She shivered as his breath washed over her soft skin, recalling the same position they were in a few nights prior.

"Name?" a young girl with black hair asked loudly through the throng of patrons crowding around the hostess stand.

"Cullen," Edward replied, grasping Isabella's hand tightly as he wove his way through the hungry crowd.

_Cullen? I wonder if he's related to Esme? _Isabella asked herself upon hearing his last name.

"Right, it should just be a few minutes. If you'd like to wait at the bar, I'll call you when your table is ready."

"But I made a reservation." Edward huffed.

"That's great, we'll wait right over there," Isabella interjected, pointing toward an empty spot at the bar before he could get irritated with the hostess. She walked forward with Edward trailing behind her, giving the hostess a look of disgust as he passed by.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward said quietly, his head hung low once they reached the bar. Isabella sat in the one empty seat, Edward standing to her left.

"Hey," she placed her hand on his arm, making him raise his head slightly. "It's okay. How about we get a drink?"

Edward nodded in agreement and gave her a small smile. "What would you like?"

"A glass of red wine, please." Edward turned to face the bartender, getting his attention before ordering her wine and a pint of Blue Moon for himself.

He glanced over at Isabella out of the corner of his eye and watched as she eyed his tapping, nervous fingers on the lip of the bar. When the bartender set their drinks down in front of him, Edward tipped him before turning back toward Isabella, handing her the glass.

A warm giggle a few feet away caught his attention. He knew that giggle well. Too well.

With drinks in hand, and Isabella saying something he couldn't comprehend, he risked a glance in the direction of the sound. "Char," he whispered, both glasses leaving his hand and shattering on the tile floor, the liquid covering Isabella's legs.

"Edward?" Isabella asked, concerned.

"Shit." He looked down at the glass scattered along the floor before quickly gluing his eyes back ahead of him.

"Edward, are you okay?" Isabella attempted to swivel on the stool, but Edward's proximity limited her range of motion. Craning her neck, she tried to peek at what had caught his attention so quickly.

"Fuck." His hands started to shake, his breathing growing ragged.

"Edward what's wrong?" Isabella rose from her seat, turning around to face the direction he was focused on. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Look at me, Edward." She tried to turn his face toward hers, but her hand on his face caused him to jump.

"I…uh…I have to…she can't be…" he rambled, leaving Isabella even more confused than before.

In one last effort to see what was bothering him, she followed his line of sight until she landed on a tall, beautiful woman with long, strawberry-blond hair. She had her hand lovingly placed on her date's shoulder, yet she stared back at Edward.

_She seems harmless; _Isabella mused as she watched the woman step out from her spot at the bar and make her way toward them. As she approached, Isabella admired her long, lean legs and the way her sleek, black cocktail dress hugged her curves, including a small baby bump that was just beginning to show.

"Fuck, no. She's…" Edward whispered, causing Isabella to turn her attention back to him as his breathing became more labored and he struggled to gasp for a deep breath.

"Edward?" a gentle voice called from behind Isabella. She watched as Edward flinched at the sound, shaking his head. Without one last look at either of them, he stormed away from the bar. The sea of people waiting for their tables parted quickly as Edward hobbled out of the restaurant as quickly as his legs could take him.

The woman towered over Isabella in her nude stilettos, but she refused to let that intimidate her. She gleamed up at her, catching her eye.

"I'm sorry," Isabella said as she shook her head before leaving her stool and proceeding to follow the path Edward had made in his quick departure.

Scanning the crowd near the hostess stand, she came up empty. "Are you looking for your date? The jittery one?" the young girl asked.

"Yeah. Did you see where he went?" Isabella breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that someone had spotted him.

"He went outside. He looked like he was gonna be sick."

"Thanks." She gave her a small smile before slipping on her jacket and heading outside.

Snow had started to fall lightly, creating a soft blanket over the sidewalk as Isabella rounded the corner before spotting Edward, sitting on a bench, his head cradled in his hands. She watched as his ribcage expanded in and out, his heavy breathing visible in the cold, wet air.

Tentatively, she approached him, not wanting to startle him. He was stressed enough as it was.

"Edward?" she asked quietly, her gloved hand ghosting over his shoulder. He flinched instinctively, making her draw back. "Are you all right?"

When he didn't respond, she moved to stand in front of him, squatting down in hopes that she would meet his eyes. "Edward, who was that woman?"

He shook his head and shivered.

"Is she why you're so upset?"

"Stop…please." His lips trembled as he spoke.

"Oh, Edward." She cupped his frigid hands in hers and drew him close to her, resting her forehead against his. She could feel his cold breath on her neck, still ragged.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she asked after a few minutes.

Edward nodded, yet his head still remained in his palms, staring intently at the snow that was starting to accumulate on top of his boots. Hoping he would say something, Isabella rose from her position, wincing as the feeling started to come back to her legs.

"Don't," he called out, grabbing her wrist tightly as she dropped her hands from his.

Isabella gasped from the pain he was causing her. "Edward," she said softly, touching his hand with hers, trying to get him to loosen his grip. "I'm just going to go inside and get your jacket. You must be freezing."

After reluctantly letting her go and watching as she made her way back into the restaurant, Edward paced back and forth in front of the bench. She was back with him within minutes, carrying a to-go cup.

"I got you some water," she said after handing him his jacket and then the cup. Edward nodded his thanks, still refusing to look her in the eye. "Are you ready to go?" She watched as he ignored her and gazed into the restaurant, searching for something or some one.

"She's not there," she told him.

"Oh." He shrugged, his eyes downcast.

"At least, I didn't see her." Isabella started walking in the direction of Edward's car, and he followed from a distance.

When they reached Edward's car, Isabella stared at him. "I don't think you should drive. You seem a little out of it."

Edward scoffed at her and shook his head. "You don't know the half of it," he mumbled.

"Half of what? I'm trying here, Edward."

"Let's go."

"No. Give me your keys, I'll drive." She stepped closer to him, her palm turned up, waiting on him to fish out his keys from his pocket.

He pursed his lips and inhaled deeply, glaring down at her. "Fine. You're something else, you know that?" he barked at her and tossed the keys before marching to the passenger side door and slamming it closed after he jumped in.

Isabella sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before getting in the car. After adjusting the seat and the mirrors, she pulled out of the parking space and made her way down the street toward Edward's apartment.

"Is this the right way?" she asked, glancing over at him through the glow of the dashboard.

"It's up here on the left," he replied quietly, nodding in the direction of his apartment complex.

Edward was out of the car no sooner than Isabella put it into park and switched off the ignition. She took her time following him toward the door, knowing that she had his keys in her hand and he'd have to wait for her either way. _Maybe I can get him to talk to me. I need an explanation about what went on tonight, _she thought as she walked up the steps that led to the door.

Handing him his keys, he unlocked the door and held it open for her. When Isabella didn't enter, he looked at her for the first time since they'd left the restaurant. "Are you coming in?" he asked gruffly.

"Do you want me to?" She watched him as he kicked around the salt pebbles that were scattered about the entrance. "Edward?"

He peeked at her quickly through his eyelashes and nodded his head before making his way to the stairs.

"You don't want to take the elevator?" she called from the first step, watching as he climbed up them slowly, making it to the first landing.

"No," he said dejectedly and continued to climb.

Several minutes later, he was slouching against the door jam and out of breath. Inserting the key into the lock, he gave it a shove and pushed the door open. The lights remained off as he tossed his cane and jacket onto the couch before entering the kitchen. Isabella followed silently behind him, unsure of herself and his temperament. He seemed more relaxed now, but that could always change.

Edward flipped on the kitchen light and opened the refrigerator door, before quickly slamming it shut again. Isabella pressed her back up against the wall closest to the kitchen in fright. _I shouldn't be here right now. This has bad news written all over it. _She watched as he opened up a cabinet door and reached for a glass, only to have it slip out of his shaky hands and shatter to the floor.

"God damnit!" he yelled.

"Edward, please, let me help you. What do you –"

"No," he said angrily and limped over to her. "Stop, Bella. I don't need your help." He stood in front of her, his hands bracing himself one on each side of her head. "I don't want it." He pounded his fist loudly on the wall, making Isabella jump.

She couldn't look him in the eye when he spoke, afraid of what she might see. This wasn't the man she saw nearly every day in the café.

"First you, and now her. God, she's pregnant. She's fucking pregnant! What a huge 'fuck you,' " Edward shouted, continuing to pound his fist harder and harder against the wall. With one last blow, he punched a hole through the drywall, a cloud of dust and debris falling to his feet.

"Fuck," he moaned in pain as he pulled his hand out, the blood dripped down his knuckles. Out of the corner of his eye he looked at Isabella, now afraid of what he might see.

She had her face turned to the side, keeping herself out of the way of his fists. He could see the large tears starting to well up in her eyes before they inevitably rolled down her cheeks.

"Bella," Edward said softly, moving his hand to touch her cheek, wanting nothing more than to wipe away her tears.

"Don't touch me," she whispered with her bottom lip trembling.

"Shit, " Edward swore, looking at her one last time. _She'll never speak to me again. _Carefully, he reached his bloodied hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he dialed the one person who he knew would be able to help. _Alice._

Isabella dared to open her eyes once Edward lowered his hand. His body still remained close to hers. She was sure he could feel her entire body trembling in fear. When she heard him struggle to pull something out of his pocket, she looked down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes.

Isabella remained silent as he talked on the phone. _Who the hell would he be calling at a time like this? Definitely not the police,_ she thought. On the other hand, maybe she should call someone, anyone who could help her out.

"Al, I need you," she heard him whisper. "Hurry." Hanging up the phone, he dropped it to the floor before walking away from her and down the hall, slamming a door shut behind him.

Isabella stood frozen against the wall, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Not more than five minutes later, and with tears still running down her cheeks, the door opened and in walked Alice wearing her jacket over her pajamas. Without removing her coat, she immediately walked over to Isabella, who hadn't moved from her spot against the wall. Spotting the fist sized hole right away, Alice gasped, covering her mouth in horror.

"Isabella, are you okay?" she asked quietly, wiping her thumbs across the apples of Isabella's cheeks, drying her tears. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," Isabella sobbed. "He didn't. I'm fine." Her bottom lip trembled as tears poured from her eyes.

"Oh, thank God. Here, take my keys. You can drive my car home. I can get it from you tomorrow." Alice handed her the keys, wrapping Isabella's fingers around them.

"No, I can't." She pushed them back at her.

"Please," Alice begged.

As Isabella nodded her head in agreement, a loud shattering sound resounded through the walls of the apartment. Both women turned their heads glancing at each other in fear.

"Oh my God." Alice shook her head. "Go, Isabella. Please."

Isabella said nothing as she clutched the keys tightly in her hand and gave Alice one last look before opening the door.

Shutting it behind her, the quiet, calm air of the hallway surrounded her and instantly brought tears to her eyes once again.

Sobbing, unable to hold herself up any longer, Isabella sunk to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Please, God, please, let them be all right. Let them be all right," she murmured on repeat before she found the courage to stand up and walk out of the apartment complex, wiping away her tears as she went.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading.<p> 


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